Who was it who said, “It’s not the years, it’s the mileage.”
This has been a trip around the sun, like any other. And, yet, the mileage accrued on this trip has taken a toll. Brakes pumped. Extensive acceleration in hopes of changing course or arriving just in time. Spark plugs misfiring. Starters giving out.
The overhaul was not in our emotional budget and yet some paid dearly for the work that was done.
My own seat sags and doesn’t have the support and cushion it once did, but I can’t complain because I see others hanging on or sitting on the exposed springs and framework of that which guards their life.
It wasn’t the year. It was the mileage.
I am not sure how to pray, so I offer to you each mile, each turn, each sprocket and pipe, the clicks and pings, the journey, the journey, the journey- it is all within you, belongs to you, comes from you.
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