Long
before children become parents,
they
begin to remake their parents.
Wordsworth
was talking about something else,
but
his line captures the point:
“the
Child is father of the Man.”
Think about it.
One of the sterling gems of old age is seeing how fluid are relationships.
How nothing is cast in stone.
How blended we are.
And how ok that is.
How identity is a cloak we wore to do that which we needed/wanted/had to do.
A cloak that is now worn and ragged, pulling apart at the seams no matter how rich we are,
showing glimpses
of someone else. Someone finer.
Someone so valuable, who was cloaked in identity. Even multiple identities!
Ahh. Old age.
God is Great.
Pass the red wine! I want to drink to old age.
Grateful for you,
Riverwatch
Seriously. Pass the red wine!
