There are pages
written on my face
line by line
that read the story of you and me and others and things
Some are in-depth stories.
Some are new and half-written
Some have yet to reveal their punchline.
Some I didn't even know until this morning; what a surprise!
Oh, on the story's page, the day holds a constant edition.
Should I erase some lines? Rewrite them the way I want to see them?
The pages are becoming worn like an old loved book, dogged ear, bookmarked, memory charger, and there are a few underlined sentences to remind me that I what to remember that moment, but how could I forget when it is written on my face,
I see you.
…
2006 I wrote:
My Vavie, my Grandmother often told me that she felt young, not one day older than fifteen. The thoughts she had or the feelings she felt seemed to be the same as when she was younger. The only indication that she was growing older, she'd say, was her reflection in the mirror.
"I see myself in the mirror and think, WHO are YOU!? That old lady certainly can't be me. Where did she come from? How can I feel this young and look that old?! Who I see in the mirror does not reflect the "me" I know. So I don't look in mirrors anymore."
Feeling young runs in my family's blood. My Father rode a Harley Davidson and could keep up with any of my four brothers. My Mom wakes up before six in the morning every day and goes like a motorized bunny until nightfall. What I see in them is a passion for life; they are motivated day-to-day-to-day pleasures of living. There isn't anything, certainly not age, to keep them down.
The mirrors in my home are antiques. The mercury glass is spotted with age; looking at them, I can differentiate myself from the dots, spots, creases, and other effects of the antique glass. I might not feel like an energized bunny, nor could I manage to ride a Harley Davidson. Mostly, I hear the words of my Vavie, "Who are you?" When I see myself in a mirror, reality presents itself; I am becoming a woman of a certain age.
…
The story across this page continues.
Though it is starting to resemble a road map leading me forward,
new roads ahead.
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