How many more times?
I am not a fan of this whole getting older thing, for me or for anyone else I know. Mainly because I am not fond of change, and, the more time passes, the more things change that you can't control. This realization is taking its toll on me in many ways. A major instance is, though I'm not sure when it started, a question has been echoing in the back of my mind for many years: "How many more times?" I heard it this past summer when I was home in the States. When I visit home, it's the whole three things are inevitable saying: Death, taxes, and I make the trip from where my family lives now to where we used to live so I can visit my best friends and my aunt. It's been that way for 20+ years now. But for the past couple of visits, that voice has been there constantly when I am at home, particularly when I am visiting people. "How many more times will I see you?" and "How many more times will I make this drive?" pokes and pries at my consciousn...