I love that it’s more about me now. With many of life’s insecurities in the past, I’m less likely to look to others for approval.
More than that, though, is the pleasure I get watching my 83 year old mother give as many people grief as possible, knowing how much she is enjoying herself. The practical joker side of her has blossomed, and this shrinking, white haired, wrinkled woman is having the time of her life every chance she gets.
My pretty face may fade away over the years, but not one bit of what I enjoy about life has to go with it.