Lately, I've been looking at x-rays of myself.
First, dental pictures that not only showed my teeth with a lifetime of shaded fillings but the jaw, the skull's lower outline. Alas, poor Yorick.
Then, my arthritic knee, where the bone now meets the bone. After miles of golf, football, walking, running, exercise and sitting, the old joint is ready for the boneyard.
Thanks for the mementoes mori.
The medical offices sit next door to each other on Atlanta's Peachtree Dunwoody Road. When I drove past the Ronald McDonald House going home, my problems seemed small.
Pieces of my life returned along the way: the YMCA fields where one daughter played soccer, the other T-ball; youth basketball games and community meetings at St. James United Methodist Church; the home where my daughter took piano lessons; homes of old friends, now departed.
Another spring had arrived in Atlanta. A new chapter, for which I am grateful.