Someday...

... I'll be like my Dad. Old, and cranky, and everything will hurt, and I'll be short-tempered and I'll want to forget the bad stuff, and only remember the good.

Someday I'll remember the doggies in my life, and remember that they all greeted me with wagging tails and unconditional love - and died long before I did, because that's what happens to doggies.

Someday I'll remember my kids when they were young, their marveling at the world around them, at the hue of a flower, the smell of new-mown grass, at the feel of the ocean kissing the skin under a bright shining sun, at the wondrous sight of Venus shining next to Luna just before sunset.

For now, I remember my Dad, holding my hand and showing me these sights, and teaching me about doggies, and tolerating me even when I was fifteen and royal pain in the behind, and I'm glad he let me live - so that I can pass along those lessons to his grandchildren. (Trust me here - I was a real PITA as a fifteen-year-old - I'm surprised he let me live!)

And I'll pass those same lessons along to his great-grandchildren, if I live that long.

I think that I'll take a sip of the Bushmill's here, and reflect. And yes, that's another lesson from the Old Man - sip gently, and reflect.