Back in the classroom

At fifty-one I sat in a community college classroom next to kids who were not born when I dropped out, and I was certain I had made a fool's errand of myself. The first semester was humbling: new technology, rusty math, a brain that insisted it was too old. But it turns out discipline ages well. I showed up to every class, asked the questions the kids were too proud to ask, and finished my associate degree with honors two years later. My grandchildren watched me walk across that stage. It is never too late. It is only later, and later still counts.