Aging is all about changes. Some changes are in-evitable. Some are good. And some are plain difficult.
Changing seasons is welcome. On the Sunday after Thanksgiving, I stood sorting through my closet before dressing for church. The time for rusts and golds was past and it was too soon for Christmas colors. I picked purple.
An hour later as I walked into church, our sacristan grabbed my arm. “You remember that you’re a lector today, right?” I hadn’t, of course.