Feeling and looking my age. That’s ok.
The skin on my neck is the result of a childhood outside in the Southwest. The thin crinkly skin under my eyes is from my grandma, who never stopped smiling. The wrinkles at the corners of my eyes are from Chris making me laugh. The crease in my brow is from caring for my son. My grey hairs are testament to my growth and change.
My son is going away to college. My parents are becoming elderly and ill. I’m moving toward retirement, although it’s still a long way away.
I’m not old yet, and I’m not afraid.
I’m only afraid of not having the chance to be old with the people who matter.