This is a picture of my father from the 1920’s; I remember him remarking on the “Old Timers” in town telling stories about fighting Indians on the frontier. Seeing that picture makes me think of that boy listening to old men, just as other boys would one day listen to him. Heaven knows what all they passed on.

It makes me think of just lifespans in general. Well, for instance, there’s mine. My youth that matched the years numbered in the picture above is also long gone. And that’s all right. I like having these links to previous eras. I look back at these pictures and somehow I remember a time before I could possibly remember and blend it into my memories. And, in doing so, I feel the responsibility and desire to be kinder than I by nature want to be.