My Life in a Box, Part Two
Then I found this little piece of art work. In fact, I remember very clearly coloring and cutting and pasting this little man and the mail box. But, who the heck is Nancy? I have no idea what I was thinking, but I must had a big crush on some little girl named Nancy. Now here I sit, more than forty years later, just wondering. Somewhere out there, Nancy may be a concert pianist or a biology teacher or a brilliant surgeon. Or, my mysterious Nancy may have become a welfare mother or a construction worker or a high priced escort. Who knows? But her name is still on my little crayon mailbox.
So, Nancy, if you are out there, stop by and say "Hi" sometime. Until then, I'll live with the mystery.
One more childhood moment to share. I was nine years old when this last picture was taken and printed in the our local paper, the Windsor Review. I am second from the right in a striped sweater and proudly holding a Punt, Pass, and Kick trophy, first place, age nine.
I will never forget the afternoon when I brought home my trophy from school. My mother was the only one at home that day. I had told her that I thought I had done well, but we had not been given the final results on the day of the competition. So when I walked in the house with the first place trophy, my mom celebrated with me like I was Michael Phelps fresh out of the Olympic pool. She made me feel like a champion. Next stop - the Super Bowl!
Back to the picture. The little guy on my left is Howie. He became an all-state running back and then a banker and a salesman. On my right is my friend Steve, who as a man was convicted of murdering his wife and is serving a life sentence without parole. I grew up with Steve and I will never believe he could commit such a horrific crime.
No matter how life begins for us, there are no guarantees about where the journey ends. Our destination will be the sum of the choices we make, plus the things we can control, minus the things we cannot.