It takes considerably less than a nano
instant for a nimble mind to sort through
the neat ranks of files, sifting aside the
most recent and dredging up memory of
how it felt to turn fifty, then sixty years of
age as time relentlessly churned out year
following year and the emotions felt then
seem as raw now as they do on recovery. Yet
they are as nothing to how you feel when
your oldest child marks a birthday which
places him past those signal years, his
sister approaching 60 and his younger
brother the age you were contemplating
retirement. An enigma, a puzzle, a strange
evocation of life that clambered obstacles
celebrated the joy of discovery and pleasure
revelling in good fortune, miserable when
misfortune entered and all in a veritable
instant collapsed neatly in a memory bank.
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