A brief thought about time.
I just turned 33 on December 22.
My Grandpa John died when I was four; yesterday he would have been 112. I wish I had known him better, or could remember more about him. I have very vague memories of sitting on his lap in his chair at my grandparents house after church. In my memory he smells faintly of tobacco.
Even as a historian, it constantly amazes me that “history” wasn’t that long ago.
Running In My Head 