My grandchildren think I am old.
My children think I am older.
I think I am ageless!
I remember loves, sadness, triumphs, and defeats.
I remember little dogs, gardens, and the smell of oil paint.
I remember moonlight, dances of butterflies, buzzing of honey bees,
the laughter of children splashing in water.
I remember the pounding of the surf, the smell of salt air,
the crunch of sand under my feet.
I remember cries of newborn babies, delighted eyes when
tummies were filled.
I remember Christmas, I remember snowfalls, I remember
strong arms around me. Sadness, defeats, even triumphs have moved on.
I am too old to carry them, now – happiness sustains me.
– Barbara White
