What do you see when you look in the mirror? Is it what you expect? Is the person staring back at you doing so in disbelief? Wasn’t it only yesterday that face was the face of youth? Weren’t you always the one mistaken for being younger than you were? Funny, that doesn’t happen so much anymore.
Then you look at your hands. Hands that were once completely smooth and soft have a roughness now, and little lines that are new. New because you are older now. Time passes equally minute to minute, day to day, but our awareness of it is not so linear or gentle.
Instead it just hits us every once in a while. Like a splash of reality in the face. You know time’s passing, that we’re all of us getting older, and that it certainly beats the alternative, but still that face or those hand reminds us in a way we aren’t always expecting.
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When did we become our parents? When did their hands become ours? People may have seen a family resemblance before, but that was nothing in comparison to the one that’s appearing now. Now you’re the age your parents were when you first knew them, or when you went to school, or when you got married, or when you had children, or when you had grandchildren. I think the bar keeps shifting.
As soon as you get used to what you see in that mirror, it’s going to change. Another little splash of icy reality to wake us up perhaps. Wake us up to the here and now, and that it really doesn’t matter what we see in the mirror, but who. And with each passing year, that who is someone we know better and better, and are happy to see each day.
