As We Are Graying

The bristles of the straw broom moved across the smooth garage floor with a slight swish as they have done hundreds of times since I started cutting Darren's hair in 1998. Back then, he bought clippers to cut my splotchy, balding head due to chemo. It was too much for him to handle shaving my head, so my friend Chrisann did it, but I've been cutting his hair ever since. Well, we had to get some good use out of those clippers.

Tonight I noticed a blend of deep brunette and silver puffs on the gray floor. Where did that silver come from anyway? Didn't we just bring home our beautiful, baby girl and wrap her in a soft, yellow blanket and rock her in my wooden chair? Didn't I just take a picture of her and her daddy all dressed up for a father-daughter banquet? Didn't we just leave the hospital after holding our granddaughter, Bella, for the very first time? Didn't we just leave the auditorium this Christmas after four year old Bella danced and sang with true abandon in her Christmas play? Didn't we?

Time really is an illusion. As we are graying, we are still young. As we are here, we are still there.

The Lord your God is in your midst, a warrior who gives victory; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will renew you in his love; he will exult over you with loud singing. Zephaniah 3:17

Thanks, Mary.
Peace.
Love, Linda