Turning 59 hit hard this year. Age and birthdays have never affected me, but now I wonder, am I too old? Has my opportunities or talent faded with the color of my hair or muscle tone? I look with astonishment and a touch of horror, in the mirror and see an old lady looking back. The lines are deeper, the arms smaller and the shoulders starting to stoop. I like the silver color of my hair, but not my saggy skin. Is my time running out? Do I have time to write the book? Will I be able to physically accomplish travel or personal professional goals?
But, I am not my age. I am knowledge, experience, wisdom, all embodied in wrinkles and grey. I am a love of life passed down to my children and grandchildren. I am stories of pain and joy, but also failure, courage and resilience. I am blessed to be where I am in life. When my grandchildren run to me with open arms crying, "Nana, Nana," I know I am loved. I look like a grandmother. The wrinkle and grey are earned. That doesn't bother me at all.
No comments:
Post a Comment