My Second Childhood
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My Second Childhood is a collection of my random thoughts and memories. I have lived through my first childhood and many years of being an adult. Everything has seasons in the sun, including us. The spring, summer, and fall of my life have passed too quickly. I am now living in the winter of my life or, as some may call it, my second childhood. I consider it a blessing to have lived long enough to reach old age. It is a gift that everyone does not receive. I have released myself from the binding ties of doing what others think I should do. I am no longer obligated to employers nor bonded by sc...
My Second Childhood is a collection of my random thoughts and memories. I have lived through my first childhood and many years of being an adult. Everything has seasons in the sun, including us. The spring, summer, and fall of my life have passed too quickly. I am now living in the winter of my life or, as some may call it, my second childhood. I consider it a blessing to have lived long enough to reach old age. It is a gift that everyone does not receive. I have released myself from the binding ties of doing what others think I should do. I am no longer obligated to employers nor bonded by schedules. I have turned the child in me loose to enjoy the last days of my life. I am grateful that God has allowed me and my husband of nearly sixty years to enjoy our second childhood together. I have time to sit for hours and reminisce and remember moments from my past. I have time to analyze stories that were told to me by my ancestors about my family's history. I wonder how much of the stories are true and complete. Have there been parts of the stories omitted? Relatives who have been disowned may not have been included in the accounts of the past. We all have secrets and stories that we will never tell. What secrets have not been told in these stories? Are the stories altered or enhanced to make the past more glorified or sensational? There are many questions that I wish I had asked my relatives while they were still alive. The answers to these questions will probably go unanswered. Over the years, I have heard varying accounts of the same stories of our family's history from my younger ancestors. Their stories are not congruent with the family history told to me from the lips of my ancestors. Their stories do not track with the things that I myself experienced and observed in the presence of my long-deceased relatives. I was there in the flesh with some of these relatives. I can still close my eyes and see them in my mind's eyes. I can still hear their voices in my mind's ears. I remember these relatives and what they were like. In the pages of this book, I have written stories about friends and relatives from my past and present. I have written a partial accounting of my family's history according to how it was told to me and from my personal observations and experiences. As I get older, I find that a lot of things no longer matter. It does not matter to me who my relatives were or where they came from. All that matters is that I was born and had the privilege of living the four seasons of my life in God's beautiful world. Ultimately, we are all God's children and brothers and sisters in Christ. We are all connected through God.
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