At 71 You Don’t Think of Age Until it Wants Something Back.
I’m going to be direct, because anything softer would be dishonest. Up to now, this space has been open.Open to reading.Open to agreement.Open to quiet observation without consequence. That phase is over. Not because I’m angry.Not because I’m tired of writing.But because it’s no longer clear who is here as a reader—and who is here…









