by Henry Mclaughlin @RiverBendSagas
Birthdays can be millstones or milestones. It depends on our perspective and on where and how we see ourselves in this life.
My seventy-fifth birthday passed recently. OK, it’s more like it flew by—a blur of the calendar pages spinning.
More and more, birthdays are a time of reflection, of assessing. Where am I? How does that compare to where I dreamed I’d be at this age when I was in my twenties and thirties? Back then, I thought I’d be long gone from this Earth. At least that’s what the devil tried to tell me.
