One of the interesting things about getting older, and taking a longer view of things, is that things that were once just an aspect or component of one’s life now become memories.
For years and years, these stories I tell weren’t stories at all. They were a part of my life. It wasn’t until I got older and began to look back a little and reflect, that they kind of disengaged from myself. They became separate from me; they became something to think about and mull over and perhaps ascribe some deeper meaning to. Whereas before, they were just one part of a busy, emerging life story.Read More