First it is bad gas and ear aches; the crack of the skull on a coffee table. At 6, 7, 8, it is skinned knees, imperfect spelling tests, being picked last for kickball teams.
At fifteen, there is acne and shame and unrequited love. At 18, the moment when you part ways with everything familiar and enter the unknown, alone.
Personal failure and public failure and betrayal follow.
Then, the moment when childhood dreams become not only improbable, but impossible; the times when faith is diminished.
There is grief and a bad back, insomnia and bitter disappointment.
But there is always a salve. Almost.