It greatly comforted me the other day to learn that my grandmother had been just as gray at my age as I have become. It made me feel a little less "old," if that makes any kind of sense to anyone else, and it also made me feel a little more hopeful than I have been for some time. I started thinking about all of the signs of aging we each experience in ways unique to each individual, yet still common to all to a great extent, and I began to wonder about toe-dandruff. Is it rampant or, like my hair that felt prematurely gray, is it something only I and others from a similar gene pool are experiencing as they grow older?
Whatever the case may be, I have decided to wage war against my toe-dandruff and have been stockpiling all of the necessary accoutrements for the war to be waged with as much success as possible. Would it be that I had been this engaged and organized about several other life experiences and perhaps some things would have proven more likely earlier than has been the case (sigh, sigh, sigh).
These seemingly ridiculous thoughts may also have a lot to do with the waiting we are all doing tonight as we have yet to hear anything of my aunt. In the stillness and peace of the evening, a winter's beauty for those so inclined to seek it, I wait and think of her and her family. They are together, that is all they can be right now.
May your waits be less poignant, your thoughts more elevated, and your moments more serene than mine have been tonight, although I think my aunt would have understood about the toe-dandruff.
Izzlebug
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