Sunday, December 22, 2019

Sunday Story - age

I don't know what to call this post, so it's just a story.

I attended a funeral through the week for the husband of a friend. He was 81, and I've only known them for 11 years. So I only ever knew him as an old man who'd had a stroke.

The funeral I attended was for a vibrant, go-getter, with a fiery temper but never held a grudge. One man spoke that they could have a ding-dong argument, then laugh and have a beer. They spoke of a man who was active, joyful, full of life. He could turn his hand to anything. He adored his family and did everything with his precious wife. A passionate, larger than life man who so many admired and remembered.

I didn't know that man. Sadly, I'd never even guessed that that man existed. I wish I had known that man, so I could see him when I my friend's husband.

Age and illness are cruel.

When I think of those who knew me at primary school, high school, university, early work career, in the various towns I've lived in, each of those people knew a part of me. The me I was at that time. The me that the life I was living allowed me to be. I wonder if they saw me in another time, would I be recognisable?

We change through life.Sometimes drastically. Sometimes in minor ways. But we change. Always.

I need to remember that. And look at people with more receptive eyes. See beyond who people present today - to see their past self, their future self, their potential and their ability to change, grow and develop.

That's my story for today.

Life changes us.

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