One day he woke up an old man.
He rolled over in his bed and saw his wife was not there.
But he knew she had awoken before him and gone downstairs.
Just as she had so many days before.
He rolled his old, worn body out of his bed.
And rubbed away the remaining sleep from his eyes.
Arthritic pain and stiffness reared its ugly head.
Just as it had so many days before.
A glance in the mirror revealed deep creases in his skin.
He wondered where those wrinkles had come from.
He remembered the days when he seemed invincible to aging.
Just as he had so many days before.
Downstairs the windows were opened wide.
And a fresh, cool, country morning breeze was flowing through.
He felt blessed for another day of reasonable health.
Just as he had so many days before.
His wife glanced up at him from the other room.
Her long gray hair in a pony tail and glasses perched on her nose.
She paused from her book, smiled and said “good morning”.
Just as she had so many days before.
In the kitchen he poured a cup of coffee.
Into his favorite coffee mug with its brown stained porcelain.
The deep, rich aroma awakened his senses.
Just as it had so many days before.
As he took the first sip from the coffee cup.
He stared out the window at the fenced pasture outside.
Where his animals would be spending their day grazing.
Just as they had so many days before.
For a moment he thought about his children.
He wondered what they would be doing today.
Spending their hours working hard and raising his grandchildren.
Just as they had so many days before.
He wondered what the weather was like where they lived.
Whether it would be sunny and warm or rainy and cold.
And he missed them and wished they lived closer.
Just as he had so many days before.
He thought about what he might do today.
What activities would fill the many hours available to him.
He remembered the days when so much freedom seemed implausible.
Just as he had so many days before.
He was reminded of those years when there just wasn’t enough time.
When excuses for putting things off were readily available.
He thought about some of the things that he’d never accomplished.
Just as he had so many days before.
But in reality he knew he had accomplished so much.
He knew that he had lived and loved and been a good husband and father.
He knew he could still write words that might have a small effect on someone.
Just as he had so many days before.
So he sat down at his computer and began typing.
The dark veins in his hands pulsed through his thinning, aged skin.
It reminded him of his grandmother’s hands when he was a boy.
Just as it had so many days before.
He typed a post about life and love and growing old.
A post about finding the time to do the things that are important to you.
The words flowed onto his computer screen effortlessly.
Just as they had so many days before.
When he finished he knew that he had produced something meaningful.
He knew he had written something small, yet substantive and important.
Words that would be eagerly read and digested by friends and strangers.
Just as they had so many days before.
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The Brown Road Chronicles 