I have to admit, I have changed a lot from my high school graduation portrait. The extra facial fur hides some of the wrinkles and all the little pink itches and bleeds gifted to me by the miracle of diabetic psoriasis. My hair has totally changed color without dye or bleach. And you can’t see it, but the brain is full of a lot more wrinkles.
This picture of my wife and I is from more than five years ago… what I looked like then reflected more who and what I was when I was still teaching and able to live life without so much arthritis pain and inability to breathe. Not so many parts of me had fallen off or stopped working back then. I sometimes think being younger than I am now is something to be wished for. But I really don’t suppose that if I were to find a magic lamp that had a genii in it, I would want to be younger again if it cost me everything I have learned since I was that age. I am an older man now… a sicker man… a less happy man.
But there is wisdom to be found in growing older. And there is a certain magic in that which is really quite priceless.