Dear White Hair

I almost feel as if my time is running out quickly. Next is 40 then 50 and 60 and before I know it, I'll be 80 years old and wondering what the hell happened? I only hope by then I have accomplished more. My life hasn't been very productive, at least not in my prospective. I had hoped to be much more successful. Yet here I am. I've had the most success in family.

My dear little family that has been my dream since I was a teenager. Utopia, family utopia is what I wanted and pretty much created for myself.

I've been married, divorced and married again. I've had two children and lost one. I've learned how to cope with things I don't have the power to change. And how to rely on myself instead of dreams, wishes, and gods. I've learn the power I do have as a woman, mother, sister, child, and best of all, human.

I guess I sometimes get depressed about growing older because I just want to have more time to enjoy the things I hold dear. When I finally die, I hope that my kids don't see it. I got to see my grandmother die and I wouldn't wish that on anyone. I can't save them from the pain of losing someone you love but I've done my best to leave them as many happy memories as I can. I have boxes full of things I'm saving for each one of them. Besides there are many things I don't want to forget.

When I die I don't want my body on display. I want everyone to remember me alive. I wouldn't mind a statue of myself instead of a head stone or plaque. A statue of me walking with a beautiful flowing dress in the wind. That is how I would like everyone to remember me.

My life has been good so far. And now I'm thinking about dying my hair white. I wonder what I'd look like.

I’m staring age, death and life in the face, godless. It makes me feel sane to walk right into life and experience everything first hand. After all you can't have the good without the bad, right?