Yes, what hair I have left is gray. My wife, Kim, thinks I’m shrinking. Not much, but a little. My kids think so too. I don’t see it, but perhaps I’m biased. I’m a little stiffer. I’m a little rounder. But all in all, I can’t complain. No major illnesses or injuries knock on wood.
I’ve had a nice life thus far, and I stress “thus far” because I feel I still have miles and years ahead of me. I’ve lived in the wilds in Wyoming and experienced life on a ranch. I’ve lived in Nebraska.
I met my wife in California, where we adopted our son, Wil, and gave birth to our two daughters, Hannah and Emily. Held them. Cuddled them. Read them stories. Listened to their stories. Laughed with them, and wiped their tears. Tended to them when sick. Encouraged them when they were down or frightened or felt that they just couldn’t do something, anything. Sat through days and weeks of swim meets. Watched weeks and months and years’ worth of soccer. Still do.
Sixty And Thankful.
I really am. I can’t complain about my life- beginning to end and all that was in the middle. I’ve made mistakes along the way. A lot of them. I accept all the mistakes I’ve made and mostly, believe I’ve learned from them.
When I coached basketball, I told my teams that basketball is a game of mistakes. The team that makes the fewest, generally wins. Maybe life is like that. Not necessarily winning or losing, but living and just existing. I’d rather live than exist.
But life is making mistakes, learning from them and moving on. Throw in a few successes along the way, and life is pretty good. Can’t ask for more than that, can we?
Or . . .
Touching a life and making a difference along the way. I’d like to think I’ve done that . . . am doing that. I’d like to think that. I hope I do that. Not taking moments for granted, but living in them, using them, being useful in those moments.
Sixty And Thankful.
A lot to be thankful for. Knowing that there is more out there for me to do. Knowing that I have a few good miles to go and willing to go the distance. Maybe a lot more. Knowing that there will be more lives to touch, to effect. Knowing that there is so much more for me to learn, so much more for me to grow. Knowing that there is nothing to be taken for granted. Knowing that there is so much more out there waiting for me.
You might not be sixty. Maybe sixteen or twenty-six or . . . We’ll walk this together you and I, in our own ways, in our own time. I’m thankful that you take the time to read these musings, my posts and hope they make a difference, cause you to consider, to ponder, to think a bit. Thank you. Something I think about . . .
Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!