Dear Wigleaf,

This is a photo of me taken a few years ago before I got old and my hair turned white. If you will notice, it looks like I am gritting my teeth. This is what is called a Norwegian smile. When a Norwegian hears the words "Say cheese," his instinct is to duck or turn his head. Norwegians do not smile when they are photographed. A group picture of a bunch of Scandinavians looks like it was taken at a funeral.
I like this picture because it doesn't show my blotches and wrinkles, which I have aplenty. Life beats you up some, my friends; don't kid yourself. Slings and arrows. Worry and woe. I was unmarked when I was kid. Now look at me. But I'm grateful to be here. I'm still alive and kicking.
I count my blessings daily. I am happily married. I do what I want to do. I'm healthy. I've got a nice house in a nice neighborhood in a nice town. Our cats are a blessing and a curse.
I was going to say something else, but I forgot what it was. That happens a lot. So it goes.


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Read JS's story, "Estranged."

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