Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I didn’t wake up in the morning and the words you found here or upon my other blogs were deemed the last I ever said.
Don’t misunderstand that to mean that I am concerned about whether I’ll open my eyes come morning because I am not concerned.
Maybe it is because I can look upon 17103 consecutive days of life above ground.
Maybe it is because that is 2443.3 weeks of outrunning and outwitting the bony dude some people call the Grim Reaper.
Or maybe it is because I know things and I know it is not my time…yet.
The Last Words Of A Dying Man
There are some people who describe each day we live as being one step closer to death. If I chose to look at life in similar terms it might not be an exaggeration to say these could be the last words of a dying man.
And since most of us don’t have a solid idea when that bony dude will ask to punch our ticket there are those who say we should live each day as if it is our last.
They say that we should be cautious in our speech so that if this current round should be our last those we love will have only good words floating in their memories.
Because most people prefer that the final conversation with their loved ones isn’t something stupid and trivial.
Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.
Rudyard Kipling
Children Of A Certain Age
When you are the parent of children of a certain age you think about these things more frequently because there are more moments where they try your patience than when they are little.
It is much easier to forgive a three-year-old for pushing and prodding than to let it go with the teenager who is old enough to understand why you said no.
You don’t get as pissed off with the 5-year-old for acting their age as you do with the 13-year-old because you know they are willfully and intentionally doing something to make you angry.
It is part of why blogging changes as your family ages.
You may own all that happens to you and have the right to write about it but you also earn the privilege of dealing with whatever chaos you help to create as a result of it.
The Change Is Coming
If you believe the mystics and prophets of the world then you know that what you seek may very well find you.
Maybe it happens because of the so-called law of attraction, maybe coincidence and or dumb luck.
I don’t know if it really matters, ask me when it is not almost 2 AM and maybe I’ll have a better answer than I don’t know for you.
What I can tell you is that for a while now I have felt change looming in the distance.
Can’t tell you what sort of change other than it feels quite large and  something about it makes me uncomfortable and antsy.
Anticipation—never my favorite thing.
But as time has passed I have gotten better at being patient and rolling with whatever changes are thrown my way.
Whitman is right.
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