Hopefully.
There have been a few things in the last couple of years or so that have become a wake up call to the fact that my years have been many. I gladly accept any senior discount that is offered to me and if it is not, then I speak up and ask if they honor one. If I go to a motel or restaurant that accepts any of those "special" cards that we all get when we turn 50, then you can be sure I'll be pulling mine out of my wallet these days. My body creaks sometimes when I try to jump up out of bed and my knees have begun to say "let us think about it" when I try to get up from the floor. My normally very dark brown hair is now colored in shades of light blonde and medium brown. When I went to my hair appointment last week, the guy who did my hair remarked that I sure didn't have very much gray in there.
Just wait Dwight. It's gonna be coming any time now.
Trust me. Just wait.
Today I am celebrating my 21,823rd day of life. I would be remiss if I did not say that I feel every single one of them sometimes during the course of any given day. Yet even in as much as I can tell how the advancing years are taking their toll on me, I also have an extreme sense of gratitude in the knowledge that I am very much alive and reasonably well.
I am still fortunate and very blessed. All that I have to do is look at the obituary section of today's paper and see the many good folks who are not. Many of them will be nearly the same age as I am with an even greater number of them much younger.
A strange thing has been happening to me as of late and in all actuality I noticed it first about a year or two ago. Thankfully it's not a suspicious mole or lump. It's not a difficulty in swallowing or sleeping at night. Hey it's not even a loss of memory from time to time although I do have plenty of "senior moments" but shoot I've been having those all of my life. The strange thing is this.
I have begun to look even more like my mom. I see her sometimes lately when I look into the mirror and sometimes I'm caught so off guard that it scares me. In my mind I say, how did mom get here? But it's very true. I've seen the photos and she will be me some day. I never noticed it before so much but now as I have found myself entering this season of life, it has become more and more apparent.
Not that it's a bad thing mind you.
It is what it is.
My mom has been gone now for nigh onto 8 years and that's a long time to not be able to call her up and ask her a question or see how things are going. Yet if I could see her just one more time, even if only for a few moments, there are two things that I would wish to tell her.
"Mom, I hope you are proud of what I've made of my life."
"Mom, I love you.
The good Lord above decided to take her back to Heaven a couple of weeks after her 87th birthday on September 25th, 2007. It was a blessing beyond belief to see her pain and suffering over and to know that once again she and my dad were together. That very same Heavenly Father decided that on this good morning of July 26th, 2015 that her little girl should arise and be well.
And if that is His plan, then who would I be to question it?
22,813 days
Thanking God for the gift of my life.
We were both just 17 years old. Where did those young girls go? Thankfully they both grew up and much older.
I've always loved this photo of my mom taken when we were living out in the country just south of the town of Haven, Kansas. I have never in my life carried a purse this big but she always preferred one that size. Mom filled that thing to the brim. It was as if she wanted to be prepared for anything that happened. Say for instance an impromptu trip to be an audience member on Let's Make a Deal or something. I didn't always agree with her and sometimes I did things my way instead of hers but I always loved her. In the end, that's the most important thing.
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