When You Know You're Old

This morning while looking in our bathroom mirror I received a figurative slap in the face. What stared back at me, at age 77 and six months, was a head of hair and for my age I have lots and lots of it. But, for the first time in my life I realized the hairs were totally gray in color. I'm sure it didn't happen overnight. As a matter of fact I looked at a picture of myself from 12 months ago and the hairs were almost all black. God surely plays tricks on us and on His own timetable, doesn't He

And then, while perusing the internet this morning, I came across a photo of a steam engine and I remembered when my dad took me to work with him on the Chicago & Northwestern Railroad and I rode up front sitting next to the engine. The year was 1951. 

I recall there was a time in my life when my children began having theirs and I thought, "Someday I'll be able to tell my grandchildren what it was like growing up in the 1950's and they will be in awe of my stories." I have a message for those of you who think the way I did. It won't happen and how do I know? Well, I think back to when my grandparents were around and I didn't take advantage of their early lives. As of today my ten grandchildren range in age from 9 to 19, all wonderful human beings, and have yet to ask one single question about what it was like growing up but I understand. It's when after I'm gone one or two of them will say, "Gee, I wish I'd asked Grandpa what it was like when he was a kid." I know because I did this.

And life goes on----------------------------------.