The Postscript - Blooming late

I realized that I might be a late bloomer — a little late, naturally.

I love hearing about proteges: the 5-year-old drummer or the 16-year-old activist. I love hearing the 9-year-old who sings like an old soul and reading about the 14-year-old who just completed a master’s degree. I marvel at all these amazing accomplishments. I am impressed with the laser-like focus of these children and teenagers that enables them to change the world in awe-inspiring ways.

I was never one of them.

I showed no promise on any musical instrument. I didn’t learn to read when I was especially young. I struggled w...