Lately I’ve been thinking about the realization that I’ve forgotten more then I remember. I cannot for the life of me remember what I got or gave two Christmases ago, and all but a handful of the presents I got from and gave to Marilyn.
Maybe I’m just at the moment experiencing the inevitable letdown, or lowering of my guard, after my – for me – hectic and full week and Christmas weekend.
I think about each of our uniquenesses, even my uniqueness, and that that uniqueness will be muted, and eventually dissipated as we will be.
Somehow, I think I am looking at this the wrong way. Or rather, that there is a way to look at this in a way that will create value, and even hope, in the face of it.