Weary Confession
...from a little traveler...
I like to think little frightens me. By now I do know my death may happen very suddenly and I’ll have no time for fear. Or it may unfold more slowly, at which time I may struggle to remain present. Either way, my life has been a series of sober discoveries, a long, winding journey through the narrow twists and turns of celebration and tragedy. But I must confess, what frightens me most is the evident accumulation on my body of wear and tear, which, with each passing year, is unable to endure the same stress and physical beating I once thought it could, and no longer wishes to go to battle in vain.
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