The Changing Face

It's a rare day that I post a picture of me in my blog,but here I am almost ten years ago.

Let me add, I look different now. I'm not just talking about having shorter hair, either. No, I'm talking about something else.

Have you ever heard of that phrase, "The changing face of America?" I've lately wondered if that term perhaps referenced what has happened down through Time to women and men my age, that nearing 50 age.When I stand before mirrors now, I see my own changing face with it's new creases and unevenness and a sort of shadow of years lived and years yet to come. I have even seen my grandmother's face, on occasion, staring back at mine in the bathroom mirror glass and spying her there, I've gasped.

Yet, mine is not the only face which I see changing. No, I niew the same signs--these same similar lines and shadows--in strangers' faces and in recent pictures of friends who I knew when we were all 17.

We are, most of us, visibly transitioning from the face we grew-up with to the face with which we will die.

This freaks-out some people. 

And well, maybe on some future day when the creases and shadows have deepened upon my own aging face, maybe then I will freak-out, too. Though, of course, I hope I'll behave with more grace.

But for now, for today, I'm fine with my changing face and what it means. After all, that is part of Life, and living is all about change and growing-up and growing old, as well as, growing in wisdom, also. And thank-goodness for that wisdom which grows along with aging, bringing with it a peace that everything is going to be all right--even after my face turns and changes into what would have horrified me at 17.

Life is about much more than a face--and that's something for which we can all be grateful.



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