Do You Remember When?
Today is nothing special. Not a birthday. Not an anniversary. Nothing special. And yet my nostalgia gene is kicking into high gear. It started when Mark was cautiously pushing his walker toward the kitchen table for lunch. All of a sudden I had a flashback to the man who picked me up, took me dancing until 3 AM, treated me to breakfast at Eppie’s, and then sneaked me back home before my parents woke up. My eyes started to tear up again as I watched him doze off on the couch, only to startle awake with some random comment about fried chicken. Outside of a photo filter, I can no longer look in the mirror and kid myself that the wrinkles aren’t overtaking my face. The years are catching up in more ways than one. I tell myself that age is only a number. That my grandmother was active and sharp until past 100. That all I have to do is eat the right things, keep on moving, and trust God to do the rest. And that’s the rub. I think I have this backwards. Trusting God should be first on th...