I wake up to the sound of murmuring voices. What the heck? I draw my disoriented thoughts together, force myself out of bed, and shuffle my way into the living room. There, I find my dad sitting in his rocking chair and reading his Mother Earth magazine.
Okay, I confess. I haunt cemeteries digging up dirt on my dearly departed ancestors. I lurk among the gravestones recording information and imagining their lives.
I realize that the older I get, the harder it is to learn new things. But, I also realize that …