Truth Or Something Like It

Often the truth (as others see it) can be tough.  It will also not break, like a bubble at touch.  You may kick it about all day, and it will be round and still there at evening.  I remember my youth and the feeling that will never come back … the feeling that I could last forever outlast the sea, the earth, and all men. 


That was my truth back then. 


Now I look at the creature in the mirror staring back at me and I don’t like the man in the mirror, beauty is not in the ragged lines of the face, nor the gray in the temples of the head.  It is not in the excess that hangs over the belt, the puffiness of the face. 


It is in the light of the heart. 


My tired old heart is telling me you have just slowed down a bit. Today I will admit, I am tired, cranky, a bit surly around the edges.  I have become my Grandfather, and didn’t even notice.  I sit back and I smile.  It reminds me of an old joke. 


A guy goes to the doctor and he says to him, “I have some very bad news for you.” 

So the guy says, “What is it Doc?” 

And the doctor replies, “I am afraid that you have rabies.” 


So the guy almost immediately pulls out a pen, and a notebook and starts scribbling in it furiously.  The Doctor asks him, “What’s that, your Last Will and Testament?” 


The patient stops writing briefly, looks up and replies … “Naw.  It is a list of the people I am going to bite!”