Our nearly 2-year old great grandson is having a tough time adjusting to the experience of preschool twice a week. It is an adjustment he alone can make. And time will, in time, no doubt prove its value, but. In the meantime, things couldn’t be worse for him, while the rest of us are reduced to wishing him well along life’s way.

There is a sense in which all of life is is an on-going, never-ending adjustment to the way things are here, now from what they were then, there only a moment ago. And we all are just waiting for the next transition to the way things now are, no, now are, no, now are all along life’s way.

Death is the only reprieve I know of. May it be smooth and easy and last for always!