When I was a teenager, I wanted a magic potion, or cream or salve, that would rid me of acne for all time. As with all good magic potions, it had a dark side in that there would be adverse side effects, but I was willing to live with those. I wanted to be clear of acne. I still do. How can I be 63 and still have acne?
When I was older and began to realize the impact of time passing, I wanted to be able to store memories never to forget them. “I want to always remember this,” I would say. I’ve forgotten so many of those moments, but I remember saying it.

When I was older yet, I wanted a potion to keep my son young and innocent and safe. I still want that potion. Especially as he traverses the horror that life can be when things go awry. I want to wave a magic wand and make it better.
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