Always looking for something. To make my day. Doesn’t have
to be much. A little thing will suffice. Being alive. Imagine that. Every day.
For 79 years, and counting. Haven’t always been aware that I’ve been alive. Don’t
even remember squeezing out of the womb. I wasn’t fully conscious yet. And perhaps
there were years when I merely went through the motions. Didn’t live memorable days. Indeed, that’s a shame.
Maybe I wasn’t in love then. Come to think of it, maybe I’m not 79. Instead, much
younger. Because I wasn’t truly born or
truly alive – until I fell in love. With life. Now love makes my day. Every
day. –Jim Broede
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