Not so many years ago I believed my father, pictured to the right of my mother, had the strength of ten men. Now as he dwells in the golden age of his life I am amazed by how slowly he moves and yet he is just as strong as he as always been considering that his brother, sister and nephew have all died in the past sixty days. Age has made him slightly crotchety and maybe dulled a bit of his shine, but his slowed pace has created a gracefulness in his movements and an appreciation for moments that I often overlook in my rush to get everywhere. I appreciate and love my father and consider him a living repository of knowledge for my family and myself.
I hope I can be this strong should I ever see the age of eighty-one.