Today I was thinking about how much of my day is spent alongside widows. So much of their life was buried with their loved ones who passed before them. I am amazed by their resilience. That quiet fire inside them. Their ability to get up every morning when so much is already lost.
Some might see wrinkles, but I see:
A Southern Belle getting ready to serve the best Gumbo known to mankind, to anyone with an appetite.
A pianist faithfully showing up every Sunday, decade after decade to lift a song of praise.
A little girl working on the farm, dreaming of someday becoming a nurse.
A dancer whispering a silent prayer right before the curtain rolls open.
A mother.
A sister.
A daughter.
A friend.
Each one with their own story, their own secrets to tell, their own failures to hide, their own element of mystery.
Take time to listen to the stories around you, and hold them close as long as you can. Can you guess who is four years shy of 100?
“If you live to be a hundred, I hope that I live to be one hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you.” ~Winnie the Pooh
“A woman’s whole life is a history of the affections.” ~Washington Irving
Love it babe! Poetic and straight to the heart.
Ditto to the Stu-meister
Beautiful, Sissie!