A decade or so ago, my husband Mark and I were driving through town when we saw an older man carefully sweeping the dirt off his blacktop driveway.
“Hoo boy,” we laughed. “You know you’re old when not only do you have time to sweep your driveway, but you actually think it matters.”
Well, time has passed. And, as embarrassed as I am to say it, I’m starting to feel an affinity with that old man. My priorities are changing.