Day 73: Time is not on my side

There's nothing like a trip home to the place where you were born and raised to remind you that time marches on. And on.

At a church in Oberlin, Ohio, on the Sunday after Christmas, I happened to see a woman I've known since I was 5 or 6. In fact, we were in school together straight through high school.

The thing is, when I first saw her -- and had not yet recognized her -- I assumed she was much older than me. But then, I've been assuming most people I are older than I am for a very long time. I really need to look in the mirror more often.

Spending time with my four older brothers was the other big reminder that time is marching relentlessly on. Of the five of us, my oldest brother and I have the fewest health problems. (But then, we're also the only two who didn't smoke.) Seeing my other brothers cough, wheeze and move slowly so as not to aggravate their aching joints was a little depressing. I kept telling myself I won't be like that in five or 10 years.

Meanwhile, I broke out the mini-trampoline yesterday and have been watching my saturated fats. Which I guess means that I've finally decided to make some changes instead of sitting back and taking whatever the passage of time throws at me.