When I stand before a mirror and look at someone I don't recognize, it occurs to me that I've lived a full life. Every wrinkle and line, every vein, and skin that sags is a testament to a life long lived.
As I look into my eyes, once brilliant but now dim and blurry, I see myself as I like to remember: a young man with hopes, dreams, and visions of success.
The man looking back at me has grown tired and wonders where the time went and all that it contained. He remembers family and friends who have passed away before him, and he finds himself thinking about them more often than not.
I don't dislike the person in the mirror, after all; it's who I've become after many transitions and tests of time. How many sunsets have I seen, how many raindrops falling on the tin roof, and how many kisses have my lips tasted? Do I sometimes wish that I had done things differently, and have I asked for forgiveness for the wrongs?
That person in the looking glass is me with all my faults and accomplishments, all my joys and sorrows, all rolled up into someone who will never look back, no matter how many miles I've traveled.
Mike 2025
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