The other day I looked down
and saw an old man’s hand,
I thought how can this be?
It was not that long ago
that I saw a strong young hand.
What has happened?
I don’t remember growing old,
Each day I see more grey,
Each day a different ache,
When did I grow so old?
I question decisions of past
and wonder what if?
There will always be time to change,
now is there enough time?
I continue to grow older,
each day I hope a little wiser.
How did I get old so fast?
I remember my son as an infant,
holding him in my arms.
Now he approaches his 18th year.
I see a young man,
No longer an infant.
A man wanting to get on with his life.
A man wanting to start his own family,
Time lost that should have been.
Now as I pause and look back,
I wish that I could change the mistakes.
I know that those mistakes make me
what I am today, a little wiser,
a little more patient, a little more tolerant.
I try to tell my son but realize
each must make his own mistakes to grow.
  

By Scott McDonald