Whose Boxes Are You Living In? I’m lying in bed belly-flop down. That’s my escape route into my world. I’m shutting down! Yes, that’s right, down I go into my idea of peace and calm. My head is resting on my left arm. My eyes are closed. They fall open! I see a hand draped across the pillow. It must be mine. I’m lying here alone. A tanned hand speckled with spots, lined with slightly protruding dark blue veins. The forefinger must have a mind of its own because it’s heading west a bit. Yep, it’s mine alright! Where did the years go? I’m 75–1/2 now. Yes, I count the…