I realized something the other day ... Sun was shining and my little daughter and I went for groceries. She had an icecream ... a pink star one with little silver glitter on it! She had icecream all over her face and with the sun shining and her being happy over this tiny little wonder of the day (which an icecream is to a 4-year old, when it's melting and sticky all over) - everything looked so wonderful.
We walked down the one of the small roads with lots of houses and small gardens in front of big apartments - and there are big roses growing on the railings - white, pink, yellow and red. My tiny little one sat on my bike with her face covered in icecream and pointed on the different roses, telling me which one was most beautiful. Every little rose was more beautiful than the rose before it and she was thrilled to see, that around the corner at the new road, there were even more roses to look at ...
We went home, walking slowly with the bike when suddenly two elder women came towards us. They walked slowly ... one had a walking frame. She had a little hat on her head and a pink dress with big white flowers. You could see that despite her age (which might have been 80+) she had tried to make herself look as beautiful as possible. The other woman must have been the same age. Also in a dress, walking troubled but secure.
That's when it hit me hard. I looked at my little Amanda - so little, so innocent so beautiful, so sparkly and fresh with - hopefully - a long life ahead. And myself - nearing my 40sh but inside I still feel very young. Looking back on the old women - they might feel young inside still ... are they aware of their own oldness? Does it bother them?
That's when I realized, I'm slowly dieing! And I really really hate that thought.
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