I was caught off-center as I read the poetry of Helen Midgley. I’ve spent many hours reading my own journals from the past four decades in hopes of capturing accurately the emotions and events that have actually occurred during Tom’s and my search for the best medical care possible for him. My library shelves have become filled with journals and then I relegate them to the attic once again.
If your life was a story in a book you could borrow,
Would you skip through today in the search for tomorrow,
Would you open the page where your childhood came first,
Or go straight to the back and read from reverse.
If life was begun with the wisdom of age,
Would mistakes still be written upon every page,
Would a lifetime of knowledge erase all the wrong,
Would hindsight determine the weak from the strong.
If love was revisited again and again,
Would you search for a shelter or drown in the rain.
Would the passions ignited be nourished and fed,
Would you follow your heart instead of your head.
If the innocence of childhood was a gift to the old,
Would you walk in the park and swing from an oak.
Would you banish the shackles of where you had been,
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