"When I was younger, I used to get up early in the morning to write. Now I get up early to make my son breakfast. I rarely stay up late. I like my job, but I have to work after dinner most nights. I can reach my laptop only if I lean over the pile of markers and a tiny Buzz Lightyear on my desk. My wife hasn't worn a bikini for six years and probably never will again; she says she's too old, which makes me sad.
Missed opportunities are not the events that define us.
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/12/29/fashion/learning-to-measure-time-in-love-and-loss.html
She is a beautiful woman with gray in her hair. My parents no longer drive at night and have fewer and fewer hobbies. This summer my mother made a box of cookies just for my son, and I was happy to see them talking quietly in the kitchen.
I'm constantly aware of lost opportunities. I used to think such lost opportunities were beautiful towns flashing by my train windows, but now I imagine they are lanterns from the past, casting light on what's ahead."
Learning to Measure Time in Love and LossMissed opportunities are not the events that define us.
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/12/29/fashion/learning-to-measure-time-in-love-and-loss.html
- Ikhide
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