Upon viewing recently found pictures from a lot of years ago, I recalled thinking at the time how terrible I looked. That prideful shame I felt for anyone to 'see' my image. This lasted most of my life.
How I wish now for those likenesses of an enthusiastic, carefree youth riding his first motorized bike were still me. Photos from days of college, symphony, and those crappy news photos alike, how I hated them. Today, how I wish I 'looked' like that again? NOT!
Not really! Nope, I do not really wish to be a teen—or a twenty-een—and die all over—again! Because so well I remember parts of all those years I needed to drug my brain with alcohol, just to feel 'normal', to enjoy myself, to be with others, etc.
Life is too good, too big, too great now. I'm truly looking forward with joyful anticipation of each tomorrow. What wondrous meetings, what 'miracles' await, what happy moments—and sad—are lurking, hiding themselves in the next hour!
However, a poem did emerge from my thoughts the other day, and so I wrote the following to a friend:
ON GROWING OLDER...
This age of mine
Breathe heavily doing steps
Forget names of people I know so well
Cannot remember even what day is now.
To frighten someone away, I need only
Send them my photo....
And my true loved one I feel to be
Maneuvering away from me.
It is so the same
Hurry, Reaper Grim
Rush. Bring to me
That darkness of
I am here to welcome you
With enthusiasm of one
Who has waited so long...
One very tired