I still have to stop and think about my internal age versus my physical age.

Inside, I feel like I’m twenty-five.

But it’s weird to feel that way now that my youngest child is twenty-six.

It doesn’t compute.

Of course, looking at photos usually brings the illusion crashing down, also.

I’m not graceful.

So, aging gracefully is out of the question.

But I am grateful.

I’m grateful that I have the life I have.

I’m so lucky to be happily married for thirty-six years.

And to have three incredible humans as our children.

I’m grateful to have friends and acquaintances in all sorts of environments.

I’m grateful to continue to meet new people.

I’m grateful to be relatively healthy.

I’m still active.

I run a few times a week.

I take the dog for a walk now and then. A lot less than Deb does.

I get to perform in plays still.

And I sing in a choir.

There are some things I can’t do.

No backflips are in my future. Although, I didn’t do too many of them in my past, either.

I don’t play an instrument.

But there’s still time to learn one.

Five years ago, I wouldn’t have thought I’d be in a choir.

Or be in a musical.

So, there’s room for surprises.

I’m grateful that I still feel that there’s always potential for my growth.

I have less of the road ahead of me than behind me.

And I’m grateful that I feel there’s still lots of interesting things on that road.

Things to do and see. To experience.

So much still to learn.