All my life I've tried to live by the tennent, Leave this place better than you found it. This started with camping in the BoyScouts, where we were told to leave a campsite the way we had found it. And for years I was proud to know I was making the world a little better, unlike many others I see in my day.

But its hit me recently that if I leave here better than the way I found it ... no one will know I was ever here, ther would be no trace of me ....

there's alot of activity on facebook. so many of my old friends are so active. it hurts to read how small i am. i thought i'd give it a try but saw only a few responses at first , then not even that. i even posted a mysterious post to get some attention, it got no response at all. i dont like feeling so empty afterwards.

I have friends that dont write or call ... quite a few realy. And I realy would like such friends. Thats the way I've imagined and experienced them. But the reality is if they feel there is nothing here ... they wont want to be here ...

I am a postsecret waiting to happen

In age

Granted, my fading eyesight is becoming more and more a problem. But if I could bring back anything which has faded away over the last few years, I'd ask for my sense of smell.

All too often in my youth I recall taking moments and enjoying a big lungfull of air. And in doing that simple act I made the aroma my anchor to that place and time.

Many times in my day now I'll do that and recall a trace of that moment. My memories are difficult to recall on my own, I need all the help I can get.

When I left home I was both frightened and excited. And not long after that, lonely. It was then I learned that everything in the world ... everything, has a time limit. Nothing lasts forever. Looking back I could see the endings I had already experienced. The few friends who had past away, teachers, family. Even though my family had tried to keep the children shielded from such, we knew.

This thought struck me so deeply that everytime I came home to visit my parents I would leave knowing, that it might be the last time I saw them. Every visit, Everytime. Until, finaly, it came true.

Now my son, for better or worse, is on his own. and now I cherish all the time I have with him, and my grandson, my wife, her family, our friends. They have endings too you see. And even more intimate is the thought that

... I have one too.