When I’m older, don’t forget the girl I used to be.
I’m still here.
Behind the aging eyes is the one who jumped out of a plane, the one who loved adventure and was willing to take a risk to experience the world.
The creaking knees are those of an athlete with miles of trails run. They used to propel the captain of the volleyball team, her name once among the local headlines. She hiked and swam and biked with those knees. She loved to ski, though poorly, with those knees.
The woman who now needs care, she used to sit on the floor and help young children find their voice and communicate. She spent years caring for the families that walked through the door seeking support and understanding for their child.
The lonely lady once had a home full of her loved ones. Her joy was playing on the floor, creating activities and spending hours in the park. She nurtured and guided and watched her children grow, the love of her life by her side.
This older me, now homebound, loved to be out in nature. Hiking and kayaking were a way to reset. Cooking over an open fire, a wonderful challenge and break from the normal. Traveling to a new place to explore and learn, to sit among strangers in a foreign land was a way to feed the soul.
The face you see before you, it’s both mine, and not mine. This face has changed a thousand times over; it has been fuller, smoother, full of color.
Take the time to see the girl I used to be, for she is the only one I remember.