Is there a face you find especially dear? One whose wrinkles grow sweeter with every passing year?
This wonderful woman was my grandma's friend, my mother's confidante, my own dear second mama now that mine is gone.
Her visit this week made me think: What kind of mentor am I to younger women? What sort of elderly woman will I someday be?
Her body is fragile as thin old porcelain, but her cheerful spirit hasn't changed a bit. She's so positive and kind hearted.
And when she left yesterday, knowing it was likely our last goodbye, for me it was a four kleenex farewell.
I adore each and every wrinkle on this wonderful woman's face.