At Seventy
When I look into the mirror, I see silver hair, a well-lined face, a drooping jawline and crinkly neck...eyebrows thinned and marked with white, eyes no longer blue but greying, like all the rest. But all of this is surface stuff, the "me" seen at first glance by folks I pass on streets, in supermarket aisles, or in the pews of Sunday morning church... the ones who never go beneath the aging surface to see the interesting, intelligent, fanciful, and often funny "me", the "me" I really am. How can they know that every ...