When we realize this life is precious and we have more time behind us than we do ahead, our memories become more vivid, more reflective of who we are and easier for us to understand why we believe the way we do. Each of us reading this grew up in a different household, some with more or less values of faith, love, trust in family and the security that life will unfold as planned. Time continues to pass, but with it it has taken many of the ones that loved us, prayed for us, upheld our opinions and saved us from detouring down roads that need not be traveled. One by one the older ones have left, leaving us behind to carry on the learned behaviors they instilled in us. Many of my mentors were not family, but community that I know cared deeply for a large family of children that were unequipped to deal with what world was outside our little farmhouse. Most of my siblings, including me were excruciatingly shy, not a good trait to get a foot-hold on changing the kind of life you were brought up in. My life was not all bad, not all sad and certainly better than many, yet full of pain and disappointments.  I see younger generations today that somehow forgot to take the advice of the older ones or someone dropped the ball of values and humanity.  My wife and I are beyond blessed to have two grown sons that are unremarkable in their belief of goodness for humanity. I am proud of the parents my wife and I are. I know my boys  carry the goodness in their hearts and will pay it forward one day. I miss those days gone by, those hugs from those who are gone, but left their undying spirit as a legacy. I work at not taking any day for granted. I enjoy the faces I have seen, and at times when I look in the mirror I see their reflection looking back at me.

Copyright (Charles D. Grant)

Author: coffeewithcharles58

Married for 33 years to a wonderful wife. I have 2 grown sons and a beautiful daughter n law. I love life, past and present.

4 thoughts on “Reflection”

  1. I agree with you Charles. Different times we grew up in. Life was hard on me growing up with migrant farm worker parents who never stepped foot in a school, they never learnt to read or write. Best they were great teachers. They taught us how to love and show kindness to others. Not in the traditional way with lots of hugs and kisses. They taught us by watching how they treated others. They may have talked rough but there actions were not. Life was rough on us but we made it out okay. I’m also married to my best friend for almost 46 years with 4 successful children, Three beautiful daughter-in-law’s, eight grandchildren that are being raised with morals. Not bad for two migrant workers coming out of Oklahoma but never had an education.

    Liked by 1 person

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