I spent this afternoon writing my part of a short story that Melissa and I are writing together in my writing Cubit. As I was writing my chapter, I kept thinking of the different perspectives I've had on past New Years Days over the years.
Had nothing to do with what I was writing, but sometimes my mind wanders even then.
I think my perspective has changed because of my age. I see things differently than I saw them when I was 30 or 50 or even 60. I can't grasp that next year I'll be 70. I don't feel much different than I felt at 30 or even 40. But I see others differently. Because of my age, I'm losing friends and family, too many and for me, too soon. I can't keep from wondering if I told them I loved them, or better yet, if I showed them that I loved them.
It sort of makes me more aware of how I treat people whose paths I cross.
Makes me more careful what I say, what I do.
Makes me want to erase all those harsh words I might have said.
Makes me wonder.