We still control plenty, if we want to.

~ even one voice can echo, possibly weakened by time, stronger with clarity and conviction

Every morning starts with hope: that our knees will bend, joints obey, water runs, and the world still spins. Some of that is in our hands.

So, what is this, another cliché riff on body-creak imagery … haven’t we had enough of those?

But most of it isn’t.

The older we get, the clearer it becomes: control shrinks, but never disappears. The choice is wha…