Old Man Blues

Here's something amusing. In 1966, my parents hadn't even met yet. My dad wasn't even preaching. Forty years ago, they were still kids. But it's not fair to think of it, forty years, I mean, as being so long ago. Really, I'm sure, for a mother the time must seem to go by very quickly. How she still remembers changing diapers or sending her boy off to school and how, when you're young, you think that thirty is ancient. Surely, you will never be thirty and your own son will never be forty. Real life catches up, though. The constant turn of the planet and soon enough, we're all older than we ever suspected we'd be. Thank god for that, I say. I'd rather be old and rowdy and breathing. The other option is so much worse.