He found an old beat up cardboard box.
He had not seen it for many years.
His heart was beating fast with anticipation.
He opened the lid ready to search the treasures inside.
Scraps from his life from over fifty years ago.
A photograph of cherished Grandparents, old and faded.
A written note of thanks, for what he could not remember.
A story written in a childish hand.
A program from his High School Graduation along with the Valedictorian speech he delivered.
He turned each photograph and page in wonder.
Scenes of this past life played upon his mind.
He could see the road his life had taken.
He could see that road was not the road he had planned.
He could not really know what road He would have taken.
He sometimes felt that road was wrong.
But he pressed on.
There were no detours no place to turn around.
There were many cross roads, and many places to choose which way to go.
Each choice was progress.
Some roads led to sorrow and pain.
Even those road eventually lead to sunshine.
As he pondered on these thoughts he looked across the room at his wife.
The wife he found only a few years ago.
The wife who accepted him the way he was.
Who as they grew together their love grew also.
He could not imagine his life without her.
He knew they would finish out this life together.
He was grateful for the roads that had brought them together.