All this talk about growing older makes me think of many people, but mostly
of my father, who is now 81. He was in his very early twenties when he was
conscripted into the Canadian Armed Forces during WWII. He survived, but
many of his friends didn't, and I think this has haunted him ever since.
Now that I'm 45, I know something of how my dad feels. Friends have lost
their children to illnesses like leukemia, teenagers in my community have
been murdered by their classmates, and people much younger than I have died
for many reasons, all of which seem unjust.
It seems so self-involved to me to worry about turning 30 or 40 or 50. Be
grateful.
Remember that Anne Frank, who never even got to be a twenty-something, made
a permanent contribution to our culture. Whenever you feel pissed off that
you're getting older, with all that entails (wrinkles, bags under the eyes,
bloated middle, middle-aged eyesight), think about her.
Raise a glass to the moment and be thankful that you're alive to raise it.
Roberto
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