I am getting older, which means everyone I love is getting older too. Life is not always kind as the years pass; getting old is not for sissies. It means dealing with aches and pains in places you forget existed. It means accepting what you can and cannot do anymore, and figuring out new ways to accomplish what you want. It means not giving up even when your body doesn’t want to cooperate and your brain has to work harder to do the things it used to do so easily.
These Hydrangea blossoms were dried and frozen over the past few frigid weeks. Though they are old and worn out they still possess a beauty and elegance that only age can provide. They remind me that even as we age we find new ways to bring color and joy to our world. It isn’t over when we think the bloom has left our cheeks; it is a new beginning for a splendid way to show off our hidden talents.
Age is a number, nothing else. It measures how long we have been alive and provides a measurement of the time we have spent learning to be ourselves. There are people who are already old at forty, and yungins in their eighties that put us all to shame. The true measure of our age is our state of mind, even when our body stops behaving the way we want. How do we handle all the things that are changing? How does it impact our attitude and the passion we still have inside? Do we give up or find a new way to do what we want to do. Tragedy strikes when people let the music inside them die because it is too hard to keep trying. Though these flowers have been frozen and forgotten, they still share their inner beauty with the world for those who are astute enough to pay attention.
Never give up, never surrender, never let the beauty of your bloom stop showing. The world still needs what you have to give, no matter your age.