You go through life figuring you're pretty much the same as you always were. Then you look in the mirror one morning and it hits you, "Somewhere along the way I became a middle aged bald guy!"
I'm okay with that.
Really, really okay.
Some people claim that I seem to have a near-photographic memory. That can be both a blessing and a curse, at times. It's a blessing because I can still call up vivid pictures of the moment I realized how much I love Diane, watching my boys being born or sitting in Dad's lap while he taught me how to calculate square roots in the margin of the newspaper (in INK, no less). It's also a curse because I am reminded of the areas in life where I have fallen short.
Do I wish I had done some things differently? Certainly! Would I want to go back and do it over again? Not a chance!
Somewhere between way back when and now I have changed. I don't really feel different; other than the constant reminders arthritis gives me that I'm not a kid anymore. But all of those things in the past - both the good and the bad - have played a part in shaping me. I may not always like the shape, but it is me. Old memories fade further into the distant past. New ones are created each day.
I'm okay with that.
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