I am growing old. But when
I look at the numbers attached
to my name they don’t make
sense. As though they belong
to someone else with a
visage different than the one I remember. A photo from a
skating event, or beginning Grade One, or a family
wedding. But then I look in the
mirror and see the face I see every
morning. Older and, if the saying
holds true, wiser. In my heart, all
the added years fall away and I am
that child, that teen, that young adult,
that 30 something, and a few more
decades. Those smile and worry
wrinkles, dark hair streaked with
white, and a few creaky joints?
Merely a gentle sculpting of my mind,
my spirit, my soul and my body.
“The great thing about getting older is
you don’t lose all the other ages you’ve been.”
~ Madeleine L’Engle, author
(November, 1918 ~ September, 2007)
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