how'd that get there?

Last night, I sat on the couch between my niece and one of my oldest friends. 17 years of knowing on on left, nearly 28 years of friendship on my right.

We watched a movie from years past and sighed and cried. And then, probably to alleviate the stress from tragedy, we laughed.

Laughed, and my face hurt, and laughed, and tears streamed down my cheeks. We laughed so hard, it wouldn't have been so bizarre if someone had broke out into song and dance.

And then we said goodnight.

I stared at my mirror as my day neared its end, and I noticed something.

Something I've never noticed before.

Something that made me scramble for a minute.

One line, one crinkle on this canvas that wasn't going away. I traced my index finger down the wrinkle and tried to find its source. It was deep, and no amount of patting or lotion was changing its form, depth or shape.

Then I smiled, and in one instant the memory mark took its form and lifted my face in joy.

"Oh," I said. "That's where you came from."

I know, in the grand scope of a long life, I am yet young. I may not have baby feathers, but I have only really learned to fly in the past decade or so. I don't know what it means to age gracefully.

It appears I get to learn.

Step one, smile.

Step two, be grateful.

... handmade lace purse from my hardworking mama. {172}
... white milk in a small crystal pitcher, clean and clear. {173}
... provision through letters and e-mails. {174}
... earth balance peanut butter, and the local store that heard my tiny wish and ordered it straight in. {175}
... buds on trees. {176}
... little girl canopies made of grandmother's scarves. {177}
... inspired words on a novel I lacked direction on. {178}
... invitations from nephews to be a part of their world, and discover I love it too. {179}
... a young songwriter whose joy is contagious as we pen the last line to his first song. {180}
... carrot stick faces, blueberry yogurt in tiny bowls and tricks to getting my toddler to eat healthier food. {181}