the rush of time

at bookclub tonight we talked about the process of accepting your aging. the group are all women under 40, and just beginning to see the record that life has written on our faces. i remember reading a poem about a woman's face and how the lines of discontent were there for all to see. i recall looking at my mom and deciding (at the ripe age of 12 or so) that i wanted to have the lines that her face carried - lines of laughter and love and frequent smiles. fast forward to 34, well, i just don't have her skin. but i do bear those crinkles around my eyes, evidence of laughter. pretty challenging to think that my daily choices are shaping the face i will show to my grandchildren. i hope as i grow older i will be comforted by the familiarity of the face in the mirror and also confident that the wrinkles will reflect a life well-lived and loved.