It's hard to make believe every day. I'm thinking about that a lot today. I suppose turning 100 will do that to a man.

But I have a secret, an inspiration, a guiding hand, and it's been with me since the tragedy that fell across my path when I was 12 years old. It has always been there, like a person behind a sheer curtain blowing in the wind, never distinct and always on the verge of disappearing.

It's a story that has shaped my being, who I am, who I believe I am at least, and has given me the confidence to try, and the strength to carry on, when the path seemed lost. It is a story of reality, a story that proves that we don't see the world as it is, we see it as we are.

Perhaps it's time to tell that story ...