How Old Are You?

Artwork_00001This is gonna sound a little (or a lot) crazy, but I love getting old. I actually am fond of the “age” that I see smile back at me in reflection. I looked in the mirror the other day and saw the shiny silvery-sheen highlights in my dark hair made from packing and unpacking moving boxes in anticipation of the next adventure with my husband’s new job, the crease in my forehead made from gazing out at my children playing in the sun or learning to ride a bike–the feeling in my heart when they fell and got right back up again and finally the triumph of pushing one foot, then the other as they glided down the path on two wheels. I saw the spots where the sun kissed my face while building sandcastles on the beach, digging holes large enough to engulf children to their knees in the sand and from applying countless amounts of sunscreen and hats. I saw the slightly droopy-firm arms that were made from holding my son for hours in the NICU, not wanting to let go or go home, and from laying in bed with my daughter holding a book overhead and reading until my tired voice cracked because we just needed to see what happened next to our friend Ruby Lavender,  or from standing in ready to dole out hugs as they both bounded off the big yellow school bus sharing tales of their day at recess or lunch or latest creation in art class. I saw wrinkly hands from holding treasures found in the woods, seashells at the beach, and little sticky fingers grabbing up for guidance along life’s path. I saw my not-so-perfect middle from growing two little souls in a safe and healthy belly of love, and from standing at the playground pushing a swing back-and-forth, back-and-forth, back-and-forth instead of running around the block in my running gear, or from driving from home to school, to dance, to cross country, to cheer practice, to piano. I saw legs strong, but a bit crinkled from sitting on floors for hours building lego towers, crouching down to kiss a boo boo, quietly bending to knees to pray for God’s hand in the new job, the big test, the tryout, the meet… I saw sneakers in place of heels, I saw a pony tail in place of the latest coiff, I saw yoga pants and t shirt in place of a snappy business suit. And you know what? I looked, I saw, I noticed, I remembered, I hoped, I dreamed, I loved, I lived, I thanked God for it all. Best of all, when I saw all of that  looking back at me-I smiled! I’ll take that and more. Grayer, Wrinklier, Crinklier… Happy, Full, Grateful!

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9 thoughts on “How Old Are You?

  1. 100 percent my favorite of all time baby. This one needs to be published. Absolutely heartwarming. The best mom and wife ever created

    Sent from my iPhone

  2. Permission to share on FB – I showed this to a friend on my phone and she wanted to be able to re-read it and asked me to post it. Do you mind?

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