Gilberts' Fridge

I wrote something while I was at work, and thought I'd post it since it's already there.

On getting older…

Time seems to fly by regardless of how much you'd like to stop it. I remember being a little girl and thinking that I had all the time in the world to do all the things I wanted. I remember looking forward to my next birthday with impatience. I couldn't wait to be eight so I could be baptized and get my ears pierced. I couldn't wait to be twelve so I could stop going to Primary. I couldn't wait to be 16, because then I could drive and date. I wanted to be 18 so I could vote. I wanted to turn 21 so that I could go to Vegas with my friends. All of these ages that I wanted to pass so that I could do all these things that I thought were so great. The time seemed to pass so slowly, and I wondered if I'd ever reach these milestones.

Now, it's another story. With each day that passes I see lines being etched on my face. My skin is losing it's elasticity. My hair is gradually fading from chestnut brown to white. My eyes lose a little more of their innocence each day as I truly begin to realize the hard lessons of life--things don't always go as planned, people are not all basically good, sometimes the only constant in life is the injustice of it all. The daily cares of cleaning the house, going to work, cooking meals, sleeping, and rising to do it all again are slowly wearing away at me. Life is passing quickly in a series of uneventful days and too short nights.

But then I will see an unexpected rainbow, or hear a beautiful bird's song. I will look at my wonderful husband with fresh eyes and realize all over again why I fell in love with him. When these brief moments come, I realize that I would not give back one moment of my life. The years creep by and every day that passes means I am closer to the end. But every moment that passes gives me a new opportunity to just be--to take deep breaths of clean, fresh air. To notice the sun streaming through the clouds in bright beams of gold. With every year comes more of those moments of perfection. And with age comes a heightened ability to recognize them.