the wild, incredible gift of growing old

October 16, 2015, Michaela Evanow, 1 Comment

I turn thirty this month. I feel much older inside; frayed and chipped and sagging.

I don’t mind so much what the outside looks like anymore. My insides are what need nurturing.

I don’t mind because it’s a gift to have a body, present and whole on this earth. A body that is free to do what I want it to do (most of the time).

Since my three-year-old daughter passed away, I’ve come to realize how pathetic our obsession with looking good is.

We are always lacking something, it seems.
Straight teeth. Nice hair. Wrinkle-less skin. Perk. Oomph.
We are so hard on ourselves.

And it doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t.

I held my daughter and wailed into the folds of her neck as she passed into eternity. I held her perfect body, that will never grow into womanhood. Everything about her was divine. I know she wouldn’t care if she grew up with crooked teeth or imperfect skin. She would have been thrilled to just grow up.

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1 Comment

  • Reply marylou spencer October 16, 2015 at 9:15 AM

    She walks with you, she hears your inner voice, she holds you as you held her – she will never leave you, you will see her at 10, at 20, at 30, at 40, as long as you live, you will see her growth. My first loss is now 60 and I still hold her and she holds me. As it grows closer to the time to join her, my heart is still full of the love I felt as I held her here on earth but I know I will now meet the grown woman she has become. Let her frolic in the heaven she has gone to – soon enough, you will again hold her hand. This, to you, with love my dear.

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