getting old is such an adventure. i look in the mirror and discover new wrinkles every day. i mean you always know they're coming but really, do they have to be so... umm, in your face?!
it's a little different for everyone, of course. i noticed small changes about four years ago, then things seemed to sort of just coast along, then wham!! the changes became more pronounced about a year ago and now they're all having some kind of race to an ill-defined finish line. or lines, actually i guess.
but definitely this is an adventure, i mean, how else can you look at it? some would call it a disaster, but that is depressing. some would say they haven't changed at all but that's living in fantasy-land. most of us just check out the mirror with a mixture of doom, macabre curiosity, and awe which, if we're lucky, gently turns into the acceptance that will carry us with grace and humor and dignity all the way to the end.
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When I see the old guy in my mirror, I'm reminded that I am aging, physically at least, just like my father did, his father did, and his father before him. Even Cary Grant got old... eventually!
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