My mother, who lived to 95, liked to ask, “How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?”
Such a good question.
Usually, my answer is much younger than the number on my driver’s license, but the reality gap is shrinking as the aches and pains of wornout joints and moments of chronic forgetfulness that leave me asking, “What did I come in here for?” remind me I’m not as young as I used to be.😉
Honestly, I’m not complaining. I feel great most of the time, and I’m especially pleased that I was able to rally my family for a day of community service last weekend when we gave a little love and some much-needed repairs to the original Cathey’s Valley Schoolhouse.
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