The Possibilities are No Longer Endless

This is an oil portrait of me and David. I can probably no longer create a picture like this. My arthritic hands are not steady enough anymore to blend shadow colors, especially in clothing.

My personal connections to the 1800’s died in 1980 with the loss of Great Grandma Hinckley.
Much of my connection to the bucolic days of family farms is gone too. I am a part owner now of the family farm, but it is being farmed by a renter. and I only get to visit once a year, which hasn’t happened during one of the two years of pandemic.

I will never return to the classroom as a teacher again. Not even as a sub. I am no longer physically capable of doing the job. Most people don’t realize how tough a job it truly is.

When I pass on, my connection to the future will also be gone… At least to all the parts of me that are not confined to words in a book.

My super powers are fading, even the incredibly bad smell that makes criminals pass out during combat.

I am slowly going color-blind.

Fortunately, my kids can carry the family name onwards.

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Filed under artwork, autobiography, humor, Paffooney, pessimism

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