1956 - my mother and meI think about how we are born to change and that nothing stops that. Even in death, the body changes, even though our souls move on. It has really been brought home to me how sweet life is, especially from the perspective as an older adult looking at her children and knowing that life will hold all kinds of challenges and surprises, heartaches and sorrow, for them as they grow. And when I look at a baby picture of me, and how much I have experienced in life, I focus on the sweet moments of growing up, and try not to dwell on the not so pleasant times... and there were plenty - I wasn't the devil's spawn, but I wasn't exactly an angel, either.
1961 - my father and meI look at myself in the mirror and there are days I hardly recognize who I am... what I have become. My face only holds a fraction of familiarity, very little of the young woman I used to be can be found in my current features. I can say that in some ways, I wish I was younger looking, for my kids' sakes. As I age, people will be asking them if I am their grandmother, and I'm sure they will be slightly embarrassed by it. It has already happened a couple of times since they've been old enough to understand it, and I think it was awkward for them. But I don't show how I feel about it... I simply tell people I am their mother, and I let it go at that.
1976 - me at 20 years oldI would love to look more like this now... but time has to have its way. And much has happened to me to change me - both intellectually and physically. I need to share what I've learned - and if no one wants to read this, that's okay with me. It's like a diary that I can pass on to my daughters and they can discover why I'm such a cranky old thing.
