One day I will be old. I will sit, lonely, in my quiet home, reminiscing on days of hustle and bustle. Recalling the time my body worked without assistance and my mind was free to function fully. This is something I have no control over, something that will creep up on me with the certainty of the first cold autumn winds. I have no choice and no amount of facial regimes, botox or wishful thinking will avoid this inevitable demise.
This however is not the case for today... I have every choice over what I do, feel and think. I can choose to worry about the ever growing mountain of festering laundry or the distinct smell of forgotten, once tasty left overs in the back of the fridge. I can wake up and use my day to ensure my car is shiny, the grass is cut and my panties are ironed. OR I can get along side my darling daughters and see the world change and evolve through their eyes. I CAN enjoy the moments of disappointment, discipline and disgust. Safe in the knowledge that when I am old and weary of this world I will have left a little bit of me secure in their hearts... memories of love and time... This is enough. The rest can wait for the day that bedroom doors aren't slammed, toilets are flushed and there are no more grazed knees to tend.
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