Dispatch to the guys from the past …
Just yesterday morning, before 6, I watched the colors of the pre-sunset coming together. Good colors, penetrating my busied soul. At the present hour, we have snow flying in. Maybe three, four, inches. There is a fire in the fireplace; I guess that is why they call it a fireplace; I hope the chill in my body will fade. One of the dogs is out like a light, on the couch.
We recently moved. When I consider this dispatch to the past, I know that most of us have moved, several times. Some of us more than others. I always was a runner, then. There is less running now, in my present. The paradox is
obvious. In this dispatch, I consider the past: memories, friends, challenges, disappointments, great blessings. Yet none of you are there, in the past. We’ve all moved on. And, for the most part, we are all thankful for that. I miss you all. One day, we will all catch up.