"Maybe You Can Tell My Story"

We had a conversation recently.  I encouraged her to share her stories in a blog format.  For a moment, just a moment, she considered it.  Probably her lack of experience with computers, or maybe her failing eyesight, but after a thought or two, she said she'd consider it..."or maybe", she said, "you can tell it".  

For now, we are consumed with the years that everyone said would be golden, but I hear over and over again, they are a little more like "brassy".  It's not as easy to sit in a car and travel for an hour, even when you get to stop and have fish and chips and look at the boats, not that easy any more, but the air feels so fresh and smells so good.  Ice cream...that softens it a bit.  Ice Cream.  

Stiff after the car ride, harder to get out and walk now, but the memories of ice cream and seagulls linger and, alas, there is a new story to tell today, not just the same ol' routine.