Where Do the Years Go?


Every year a few scraggly tulips come up in our front garden. We never planted them. There was only one there our first spring, years ago now. Now there are several, but never strong, though this year they are particularly red, brilliant – stark against the luscious, green fresh grass.

Jane and I spend time at a garden centre looking at the gorgeous splendour and variety of flowers, some of which we’ll put out as annuals in the backyard and also add some perennials to that part of the display. We've build a deck out back and have generally spruced up the exterior of our abode. It took us about 20 years after arriving to begin finally to invest in some structural, outside improvements. We hope to stay here a few years yet, though the kids are gone now. But they come home, and bring the grandkids.

Still, it's cheaper than starting over fresh somewhere else – and we’re not quite ready to gear down, even though we're retired. Not ready yet for a condo or apartment, nor the retirement-residence, the grave . . .

Our times are in God's hands, the Scriptures say.

Sigh. But where do the years go?!

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