I DON’T MIND MY REFLECTION, EVEN WHEN I CAN FULLY APPRECIATE THE EFFECTS OF SIX DECADES ON MY FACE. Long ago, around 1958… Wait, I’ll start again. A very long time ago, I thought everyone over age 18 looked the same: old. Do you remember thinking that? Adults, whether they were in their late teens or late 50s, fell into the same category. They were not of my kind.
More recently, I thought the same thing about people in their late 60s. They, and those who had managed to hang on even longer, were not my people. And now, suddenly (honestly, I don’t know how this happened), I’ve discovered I am one of them, having crossed, while I was busy living my life, to the other side.
Here’s the surprising…
