The portrait bust
is one that I made of my father at age 85.
I have followed in
his footsteps in terms of being an inventive engineer, but there the similarity
ends. My father never took chances, whereas I have taken nothing else.
Albert lived well
into his nineties and was loved by all. After being a virtual teetotaller, towards
the closing years of his life he enjoyed nothing better than a glass of beer.
And after hankering for retirement throughout his working life, his last words
to me were: I wish I was back at work.
Given the above, I feel
sure he would have agreed with the words Nadine Stair wrote at age 85.
If I had my life to
live over, I'd dare to make more mistakes next time. I'd relax, I would limber
up. I would be sillier than I have been this trip. I would take fewer
things seriously. I would take more chances. I would climb more
mountains and swim more rivers. I would eat more ice cream and less
beans. I would perhaps have more actual troubles, but I'd have
fewer imaginary ones. You see, I am one of those people who have
lived sensibly and sanely, hour after hour, day after day. Oh, I've had my
moments, and if I had to do it over again, I'd have more of them. In
fact, I'd try to have nothing else; just moments, one after another, instead of
living so many years ahead of each day. I've been one of those
people who never goes anywhere without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a
raincoat and a parachute. If I had to do it again, I would
travel lighter than I have. If I had my life to live over, I would start
bare foot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall. I would go
to more dances. I would ride more merry-go-rounds. I would pick more daises.
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