Happy Birthday from my son

Last week was my Birthday. My son came to visit me from the west coast. He brought me two, no three presents. One, himself for a visit. Two, a newer laptop computer. And three, and probably the best, help in cleaning out the basement. My knees keep me from making too many trips up and down the basement steps so his help in carrying stuff up out of the basement was much appreciated. At the same time it made me very sad. Many of the things we hauled out reminded me of things I use to do and now don't. By throwing out this stuff I was closing doors on my past. I had said during much of my life that when one door closes another door opens. And I guess its still true. The problem is when I peak through the newly opened doors I see rooms with no exits. Not all, but most of the rooms. Some of the rooms have me sitting in a rocking chair watching the world go by. I dont want to go there. My lament is still true.