As I grow older, I find my thoughts being pulled more and more to the time when I was young--or just younger. In my reveries, there are never any problems that I can't handle. I am strong and smart, and all of my powers are intact. Oh, and cute, too--I'm always cute. My hair looks great, and my outfits are awesome.
Now, most days are like this photo, reminding me that I'm not what I used to be. I need my glasses to find the buttonholes on my shirt, and I often start my sentences with "Stop me if I've already told you this." Then I will proceed to tell you anyway. The other day I picked up the alarm clock to see who was calling, lost the corkscrew between opening the bottle and taking my first sip, and realized at the end of the day that I'd been wearing my leggings backwards. It didn't even matter.
In the big picture, those are all just minor hiccups--life letting me know that I need to hold on a bit tighter. I'm sure tomorrow or the next day bring more bumps in the road. But you know what? I'm happy to be here with my memories. In Retrospect--where I love to dwell--I've had something to be happy about every single day that I've lived. I hope that won't be taken away from me, but if it is, I think I will still find a way to be happy. Does that make sense? More and more, I'm finding that I don't. Make sense, that is...
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