AH, GOOD DAYS!
School had just closed for the summer. He came in, flung his books to a corner of the room where they’d rest for three months, and asked in an excited voice, “Dad, can you take me to the swimming pool?” I answered, “Yes, in about five minutes. Hurry, I’ve got an appointment.” He bounced down the steps in less than five minutes, grabbed a towel, threw it around his neck, and headed for the car. But he stopped abruptly, opened wide his arms as if to embrace the world, and said, “Now Dad, for the good old days!” Then ran to the car. I didn’t run with him but stood for a few pensive moments, thinking. Most people look back on their lives and say, “Those were the good old days.” But not this twelve-year-old. He was not looking back nor ahead but only at the present, the moment of now. And he was right, was he not? The present —…
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