This is a photo of a Tonka backhoe. It was left in the sand box one day by my boys many years ago. I found it today, after cutting away many overgrown vines, in the spot where they played with it for the last time.
It struck me as a kind of sad…one day this much loved toy, was never played with again. When was that exactly? I couldn’t say. I just blinked, and they were grown.
I don’t often look in the mirror. I don’t mean to do my hair or make up, but REALLY look. Especially in good light. Yeah. I did that.
Imagine my surprise when I saw the crepe-y skin, not only on my neck, but on my face. When I could no longer deny the existence of the fine (and not quite as fine) lines around my lips (which by the way, are kind of disappearing). My once (naturally) perfectly shaped eyebrows have become sparse. And of course, the dark, puffy semi-circles under my eyes.
I have decided that I do not like being “middle-aged”. I didn’t like being a teenager either. It’s in between. Not an adult, not a kid. Middle age is the in between age of adulthood. Not elderly, but with most of life already passed.
As much as I do not like middle age, all of my lines and wrinkles will deepen with the passage of time. When they’re finished, I’ll be one Hell of an old lady.
So. I’ve already lived most of my life. I know what you’re thinking… How depressing… You’re still young… Why would you say something like that?!
It’s no big deal, really… It’s just a fact.
Yeah, the speed at which time passes startles me. Maybe more than I really care to admit. Where DID the time go? How did I get from here…
My dad and me October 1962
…to where I am? I LOVE my life. Now. That was not always true.The thing is, all of our experiences, good and bad, make us who we are. What would you go back and change if you could? What would be the consequences? Would a small thing make an enormous difference… Or, would a really big thing, change little?