It seems like it was only yesterday when the last remnants of winter were dragging past and spring was having a tough time taking hold.
Now here we are on the first day of August and autumn will again be waiting its turn in just a few weeks.
My how time does have a way of slipping through the cracks of our lives without hesitation. And we only have ourselves to blame.
Try thinking back a few years, or many years, and recalling what it was like wanting to be something you could not be.
Try going back to the time you were 2 years old, standing in your front yard and wishing you were old enough to ride a bicycle up and down the street, or skate up and down the sidewalk.
And when you reach that age in your mind of wanting to toss the bicycle and skates, and being old enough to get your driver’s license.
Try going back to that baseball field to watch your brother play the game and wishing you could be old enough to hit a home run further than anybody.
Now sitting back, there you are, and at the age you are, and you wish you still had that bicycle or could still make those skates fly up and down the sidewalk.
Sit with your children or grandchildren and tell them to love and enjoy what they now have and worry about having something better when they reach the age of 90.
• • •
Recently I’ve sat in front of my television and watched some disturbing reports about the dangers of smoking and some of the terrible things it can do to those who practice the habit.
And throughout most of my life, I’ve heard any number of smokers say they cannot snap the habit.
Right now you’re reading about an old man who smoked three packs of cigarettes a day, quit at the drop of a hat and never wanted another one. In fact, he never even thought about another one.
Honest to goodness!
It was about 25 years ago. I was sitting in my office at a newspaper where I worked, put a cigarette in my mouth, lit it and noticed some discomfort in my throat. With that, I removed the cigarette from my mouth, looked at it, and said to myself, “This is the most stupid thing I have ever done.”
And with that, I mashed the cigarette out, reached into my shirt pocket, pulled out what remained of the pack, threw it in my trash container and immediately vowed never to smoke another.
It was nothing more than mind winning out over matter. That’s all it took.
That evening when I went home I approached my bride — who also was a heavy smoker — and told her I quit smoking and advised her to do the same.
“If you can do it I can too,” she said. And she did.
And so it was. Two cases of mind over matter and just a smattering of pride.
By the way. We saved the money we would have spent on cigarettes and paid our utility bills with it.