50 sense

Many prayers have finally been answered...I am fortunate enough to be hosting my nephew the next five weeks as he recuperates from pacemaker surgery and learns various ways to ward off his demons. I am so lucky to have this time with him and so very grateful that he is safe and sound .

"Naomi, I used to weigh 525 pounds, now I only weigh 400. I am on Slimfast!"

This is my father in 1930. He was 17.
His journey ended October 4, 1973. I was 17.

My parents were in their forties and fifties by the time I reached the age of accountability. Therefore I had a somewhat skewed perception of adults. Adults were old and looked quite different from children and teenagers. I can remember touching my father's forehead wrinkles and being intrigued by them. When I drew pictures of adults, I would always draw horizontal lines lines across their foreheads. Adults had wrinkles, period.

At 49, I watch my own wrinkles emerge and boy, are they emerging. I am once again intrigued by them as I was with my father's. Wrinkles describe your past. They show whether you smiled or frowned more; whether you smoked; whether you squinted your eyes or not,etc. And in my case, whether you spent way too much time in the sun. (I have spent my my life working and playing in the sun.)Just this year I have developed the horizontal lines across my forehead. I have earned the wrinkled waddle that once was my neck. I even discovered a strange, but defined wrinkle on my forearm that has resulted from the position I hold my arm at work, 23 years of holding that position.

Every wrinkle tells a story. They will help to remind me of my life: the good, the bad , the mistakes, the accomplishments. My wrinkles are my recorded history. I will embrace the story, not erase it.