Prime Time

Earlier this month a childhood school and neighborhood friend called - Shar was in town and suggested lunch together.  We enjoyed catching up and chatting as though no time had passed since our last visit.

At the end of lunch she commented on my "pretty" hands - she was worried about her age spots.  I quickly showed her mine, they had just been hiding from view, and I let it spill that they had been burned off once but were now back as bold as before. 

"We're past our prime"  I offered.  Her face winced!  Guess we don't like to talk about getting older.  In fact it occurred to me right then that I didn't notice when my "prime " had come and I certainly didn't know when it left.  I should have paid more attention to the good years, but I imagine those were the same years I was juggling 7 children, working at Jordan High, and trying to take care of house and yard and church callings.  But it is gone just the same.

Most times I do not feel old.  I do feel slightly aged in the morning when it's time to roll out of bed.  The joints creak, the bones ache and I hobble into the bathroom.  The rest of the day I am limber, strong and can still run up the stairs  -  just don't ask me to talk for a few minutes.  
Despite the number of years on the calendar I feel as young as my five daughters. 

Till I look in the mirror. 

I try harder lately to avoid all mirrors. 

Even the cute ones.  :  )