I am in my mid –sixties. I remember grimacing when I entered my mid forties and fifties. To tell the truth, I was iffy about my mid-thirties. If there is one thing I have learned, it is that each decade I wish for the last one to be back.
I think it would be wise to assume if I make it to my mid-70’s that this is the time I would be wishing back. I must remember that today and tomorrow and so forth. I imagine I will forget.
When you get older, it dawns on you that the childhood other people are remembering was your mid-twenties or mid- thirties and so forth. The comforting memories of your own childhood mean nothing to them: fireflies caught in a jar, dressing up for trips into town, no fast-food places, handmade comforters with no designer names, and speaking of comforters: grandmas that looked like grandmas – grey hair, housedresses and clunky laced shoes with heels.
Okay, stopped thinking for now.
