Saturday, June 11, 2011


In an attempt to appease my wife’s definition of keeping the house in good order, I emptied my assigned closet space the other day, dusted, sprayed, and sanitized the area, then re-hung my wardrobe and filled the shelves again with various items mainly positioned there for storage. Thus it was, though, that a small box containing a journal written during the turn of the century plus some diary posts composed in the year 2003 began to stir this old man’s memories. It’s hard to believe what just a decade can bring to one’s relationship with his grandkids, the oldest now in college but yet very much an every-day event in my life, the youngest not even a part of the package back then. Time marches on, however, and in more ways than one. To read those thoughts concerning my family matters, church fellowship, initial entry into working in Special-Ed with autistic children, and history as it came to me, is to realize an evolution, as well, into who and what I am right now. The body is not the only element of what makes up a man that ages. Muscles weaken, bones begin to ache, and the mind may lose its grip on a number of items; but, inside, the “person” is still there, a product of opinions forges along the way, experiences encountered. The difference, I think, is in “the tie that binds”, the cord, the cement, the “super-glue” that holds it all together. For me, the anchor holds. He remains faithful…..

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