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Words

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Do you ever have days when a “word” seems to leap out at you from... everywhere?

Conversations, texts, commercials…

And finally, it gets your attention. That word. And sometimes, it's one you’re not particularly fond of?

Yep – that was my day.

The word?

Age.

Horrible, awful, depressing. Need I go on?

If you’re anywhere north of 40, you probably get my drift.

I had a sad conversation with a stranger today. Humbling, really, that she chose me to tell. She said she’d never done that before.

It was an all too common story of divorce, betrayal, loss, family. And kids who pay the price. And the other party, the one who never saw it coming. Twenty-seven years of marriage and a senior in high school.

Sad.

Depressing that it’s not the first time I’d heard that story. I’m sure you can relate.

But back to… age.

Awful, horrible things can happen with age. Lots of “goodbyes” happen with age. And I hate goodbyes. Simply hate them.

Other things happen too. Jaded, cynical… complacent?

I don’t like to be north of forty and I don’t like parts of my body to travel south.

But it happens. Right?

What do you do? Become maudlin, contemplative… dismissive? Forget about it all.

If you can!

But to perk up my creative spirit, I logged onto Pinterest. Something to distract myself from that ugly word.

Only, guess what?

I found it AGAIN!

After searching in vain for new cookie ideas to fill the stomach of my ever hungry teenage boy, I browsed through images of unbelievably exquisite living rooms. And that always perks me up. One image lead to another, and another search, and another idea…

I soon found myself mesmerized with the beauty of all things, well, old. Vintage. Aged.

That was the phrase, “Aged to perfection.”

And as image after image swiped across my screen, all beautiful, all “pinned,” I began to realize exactly how much I loved “old” things. Beautiful, exquisite, tantalizing old things.

New words began to fill my head. Words like “timeless.”

I like “timeless.” And after a while I began to like the word, “aged.”

I want to be “aged to perfection.” I want my years on this earth to count for something and although I’d like to look in the mirror and see some smoother parts, I wouldn’t trade my experiences for anything in this world.

And I wouldn’t trade the tears I’ve shed, the people I’ve embraced, the sad stories I’ve heard… and told, the hard times and the good. It all counts for something, in the end.

Here’s to all things perfected with time.




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