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At ten, we had no pretense of knowing much of life. We depended on our moms and dads to keep us free from strife. By twenty we’d convinced ourselves we nearly knew it all. Forgetting admonitions that prides goes before a fall. At thirty we’d matured a bit and recognized mistakes. Successes we’d enjoyed along … Continue reading

Poetry: My Mom has just turned seventy

No one could guess Mom’s real age; at least not those around her. She pedals bikes up hills on which the rest of you would flounder. Except for wobbly ladders, my Mom really has no fears. She keeps running rings and circles around people half her years.   My mom, who just turned 70, will … Continue reading