Perhaps it’s age creeping up on me that makes me more of a grouch than the carefree, happy guy I used to be. I go to bed with aches, sleep fitfully, and wake up with more aches. I take painkillers so I can move and get to work on time. During the day, sleep takes longer to fall from me. Energy is a commodity I seek daily—it no longer sparks and burns upon my rise from bed. I stand on sore feet, walk with sore knees, and rest on a sore backside every chance I get. With age comes pain in many degrees; it’s a fact of life. Pain tests our temperament, emotions, and mentality. On a good day, I behave as well as I was taught to, holding my dignity and wearing it like polished armor on a king’s prized knight. On a bad day, I snap and flail and fall to the wayside, broken, miserable. On a bad day, I feel alone in my misery in a world full of aching souls. But in my awareness, I toast my fellow brothers and sisters and rally them to rise up, face their pain and go on. That’s life until the day we die, leaving behind others making their way along life’s journey, following in our footsteps.