Charm is Deceptive and Beauty is Fleeting–Part I

I think that as human beings (my dog could care less) we tend to take stock of our aging process more consciously as we approach a new decade.  I know I do.  The other day while pondering the beauty of youth, I found myself  lamenting my youthful self.  Where did she go? While lamenting, I suddenly realized that the younger, smooth-skinned me I lamented had not evaporated into a place long past, but had somehow hitched a ride with me through the years.  In other words, that young me has merged into the cracks and crevices (and wrinkles?) of the 58 year-old me. She is me.  Now, that’s profound.

The young me modeling at Adams Junior High school fashion show, 1966

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