Getting Old

Not much room for a column in this week’s Ledger so I’ll, by necessity, be brief.

Where has the time gone? At Friday night’s graduation, I saw some kids receiving diplomas that are the grandchildren of people I watched get a diploma when I first came to Hazlehurst to run this newspaper.

I wasn’t surprised, of course, all during the school year I’ve been taking photos of children whose grandparents I took photos of when they were in school. So I’ve come to grips with my senior status, just as I’ve come to grips with my bald head, my protruding gut, my everyday aches and pains, my inability to remember things —- many times embarassingly, especially when I can’t remember the name of someone I’ve known for almost 45 years.

I keep reminding myself that it could be worse. Much worse. My father died when he was 65. I’m now 70. I feel like each year I live is a gift, and it is much appreciated.

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