Life is like a race in some ways. A baton relay race, that is. So Imagine this!
You’re running around a track with a baton in your hand waiting to pass it on. This baton contains everything you have learnt and all that you hold dear.
This race was started when but a youth. You’re full of life and energy; you’re nothing but a lean mean fighting machine. You continue to go full circle time after time, after time. But you don’t mind. There’s plenty to see on the way and the crowd still there, cheering as you go by.
But unlike the real game there are no other team mates up ahead, as far as you can see. This race is not as simple as you think. You continue to circle the track with life’s baton firmly held within your hand.
The minutes tick away, the hours tick away, the days tick away and the years tick away. Your legs grow weary but you refuse to give in. You believe you’ll never grow old, nor let the years condemn you, as you head towards your goal in life.
You’re running around a track with a baton in your hand waiting to pass it on. This baton contains everything you have learnt and all that you hold dear.
This race was started when but a youth. You’re full of life and energy; you’re nothing but a lean mean fighting machine. You continue to go full circle time after time, after time. But you don’t mind. There’s plenty to see on the way and the crowd still there, cheering as you go by.
But unlike the real game there are no other team mates up ahead, as far as you can see. This race is not as simple as you think. You continue to circle the track with life’s baton firmly held within your hand.
The minutes tick away, the hours tick away, the days tick away and the years tick away. Your legs grow weary but you refuse to give in. You believe you’ll never grow old, nor let the years condemn you, as you head towards your goal in life.
You lift your head and look ahead, but there’s no one there as far as you can see. You look around and catch a glimpse of the crowd. No one has left, but the faces seem older now. Your partner and children that had come to watch, all appear a little different now.
Your partner is very much older but still has that golden smile. The children are fully grown and stand with pride. Funny that! You don’t feel that you have changed at all. But you take heart knowing you’re not alone as long as they’re still there.
Time to straighten the back and pull those shoulders back. You sense the end is near. But alas, it’s not. You start to doubt yourself, as you grow dry and shorter. Perhaps! It’s time to give it all away and head for home.
As you start to wander between the lanes you strive for one more lap, but you know your time has come. You don’t want to give in but you find yourself upon the ground.
As you look into the sky, the faces that you met in life are now above you looking down. You turn your head to avoid their stares and see the baton laying on the ground. You start to think that you have failed. You close your eyes as you think to cry and remember all that was good in life.
But wait! You hear a voice! A familiar voice that shouts out loud, “Get up boofhead, you’re not dead yet.”
Through blurry eyes you see your children coming towards you. One of them has picked up that bloody baton. You see them pass it on, so each can feel its weight. As they pick you up, you hear your partner say, “It’s alright, we’ll take you home old man. The kids can carry the baton now”
To be continued...
Your partner is very much older but still has that golden smile. The children are fully grown and stand with pride. Funny that! You don’t feel that you have changed at all. But you take heart knowing you’re not alone as long as they’re still there.
Time to straighten the back and pull those shoulders back. You sense the end is near. But alas, it’s not. You start to doubt yourself, as you grow dry and shorter. Perhaps! It’s time to give it all away and head for home.
As you start to wander between the lanes you strive for one more lap, but you know your time has come. You don’t want to give in but you find yourself upon the ground.
As you look into the sky, the faces that you met in life are now above you looking down. You turn your head to avoid their stares and see the baton laying on the ground. You start to think that you have failed. You close your eyes as you think to cry and remember all that was good in life.
But wait! You hear a voice! A familiar voice that shouts out loud, “Get up boofhead, you’re not dead yet.”
Through blurry eyes you see your children coming towards you. One of them has picked up that bloody baton. You see them pass it on, so each can feel its weight. As they pick you up, you hear your partner say, “It’s alright, we’ll take you home old man. The kids can carry the baton now”
To be continued...
