Time Passes

I wrote graduation cards to TBG's cousin's kids.  I met his cousin when she was 6 or 7 years old; we sat on the floor in the corner of her aunt's living room, playing gin (she won.... she always won) as she identified the newest arrivals.

Uncle Bill.  Uncle Bill.  Uncle Chuck.  Cousin Bill.  Cousin Chuck.  Uncle Bill. Billy.  Bill.  

I kid you not.  They were all at least 6' tall, and except for her father, they were all Bill or Chuck.  It should have made it easier.  It didn't.

But, I digress.

I have vivid memories of her childhood, but I've never met her children.  Congratulating a high school senior isn't hard to do, but I wanted to have something personal to say. 

Google Photos shows me pictures from years gone by.  Today I saw FlapJilly in a sunhat, munching on her toes in 2015

which, except for the sparkly eyes, looks nothing like this taken Thursday,

where she's celebrating her kindergarten graduation, wearing her reading medal and a mortar board.

I look in the mirror and am surprised by my face.  I don't mind it.  It's just not what I'm expecting.  Am I the only one who long ago stopped aging the self-portrait I carry around inside myself ?

I like growing older.  I'm relishing my status as Crone.  I just don't know why my outsides can't keep up with my insides..... where I'm still 25, with my whole life ahead of me, my hair more black than grey.