Another year gone! Where did it go!
I'd love to write some thoughtful prose on the matter of birthdays and being another year older but wiser. Something tasteful about aging and how it doesn't matter really. How as I get older I enjoy life more. But I'm at a loss for poignant words.
Truth is I dont want to get older. Stamping my feet!!!!!
I don't want more grey hairs silently scattering themselves through my dark hair, or laughter lines wrinkling my eyes. I dont want my waist to expand every time I look at a chocolate. Or realise some of my friends could be my daughter.
I know age shouldn't stop you from doing things but it does. I hate that I can't play tennis without getting puffed. That sitting cross legged on the floor too long makes my knees ache. That I need glasses to read and scrapbook, and that the strength of the glasses changes every year.
Age crept up on me when I wasnt looking. The person in the mirror, although familiar, really isn't me. I still think I should look somewhere around 30. That was such a nice age... and so long ago. Had to chuckle at this quote: If I knew I was going to live this long, I'd have taken better care of myself.
On a lighter note I really do love the one celebration day that reminds me how wonderful it that my kids make me feel ever so special.
I'd really like to have a recent layout to share with you on this auspicious occasion. LOL. But the truth is I've been a lazy scrapper lately. So I dug into my archives and guess what I found... ? Yep that's me in an old lo complaining about getting old. I wrote the poem to go with the forlorn looking pic. LOL
Please excuse how dated this looks.
Had to laugh! Things never really do change eh?
My Journalling reads:
It was just yesterday we shared
Ideals of a future tomorrow.
In wanton chatter, we laughted,
Into the late night hours.
We played, we travelled, we dreamed.
We revelled in our ignorance
With unihibited abandon.
We believed we were invincible.
It was just yesterday, or so I thought
Now the lines are etched in crevices,
So perniciously they encircle tired eyes.
The strands of grey scatter implusively
Telling tales of reckoning age.
And the words, without assistance,
Blur upon the page.
I thought I was invincible.
It was just yesterday, I remember.
I looked into the mirror
And a stranger did I see staring,
Ever so curiously, right back at me.
Age like a thief came in
And stole away my youth.
Now I contemplate the dusk and
I know I AM not invincible.
HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY.