Growing old for me means waking up at odd hours in the middle of the night, not able to sleep, to reflect on my life and a desire to share thoughts that seem so wise at night, then appear not so wise in the light of day.
This is one of those posts.
The good and bad of coming of age in the 50s and 60s growing up in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I never had a key to the house since the doors were always open.
The Good
The Bad