It’s a fear. An actual fear. Signs of the passing time… Wrinkles.
We all have a notion of our mortality and, whether it’s great or small, a fear of it. For me, the development of wrinkles (and other lovely treasures you don’t expect when you are young, like more facial hair!!!) not only points to a time when I smoked and lived a rather unhealthy life, but also my passing years and, therefore, impending doom.
So as I sat in front of my magnifying mirror this morning, plucking out as much of the abovementioned facial hair and examining, with horror, the gazillion new wrinkles that have sprung up since the birth of my twins, I couldn’t help but notice two distinct lines that didn’t make my heart drop…
Smile lines!! They are something I have always liked in other people, but I never had them… until now!! Until this age, until these babies and these few hours of good sleep and these many hours of laughing and playing and cooing and speaking about them when I’m not with them. Smile lines that outshine all the squinty-eye wrinkles or the dry-skin wrinkles. Smiles lines that overshadow the dark marks under my eyes, and the fear in my heart that I am not doing a good enough job. Smile lines that show me how full my heart and soul and life truly are, how blessed I am and what these babies have given me as a most beautiful gift, along with themselves. Smiles!
And suddenly the facial hair and other wrinkles don’t matter anymore. I put the mirror down and picked up my babies and, while kissing them all over… smiled.