I must confess that I am older now. And as is normal with age, my body experiences all kinds of aches and pains I never thought possible. To some, this could be quite depressing.
I sit in a comfortable chair on my little patio and let my old body relax. My children, now all grown, don't think I can remember when I was their age. But they are wrong, as all middle aged and older people know. I remember quite well feeling painless and strong. I must admit part of me misses those days.
As I rest in my chair, I become aware of each ache in my muscles and my joints, and I know just where each one came from. My sore knee that always acts up in cool weather was the result of a spectacular fall on the ski slopes at Lutsen Minnesota when I was vacationing with my family. There was some pain, but it was a great trip. Then there is my throbbing ankle, which came from playing soccer when I was in the navy. I still keep in touch with my friends from back then. A great bunch of guys from a great time in my life. And of course my back, my pour aching, throbbing back. It was victimized by years of carrying young kids, sometimes much too big to be carried. I remember more than once when I carried all three of them at the same time. And I'll never forget our visit to Washington, D. C. on a very hot summer day when I had to (or chose to) take turns carrying my children on my shoulders as we toured the monuments, knowing they were too young to remember any of them.
Yes, my body is now full of aches, but I love each and everyone of them. They are not something to dread; they are in fact a badge of honor. I sit here, with my aches and pains, and revisit so many wonderful episodes in my life. God certainly knew what he was doing when he created the human body. I like my aches. They're somewhat like a picture album in my mind. I wouldn't want it any other way.
Yes, I ache, but I am so thankful for that.
Dude, I am crying.
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