There's something to be said about getting older.
Your knees ache. You may get winded walking stairs. Your hair gets gray everywhere -- and I do mean everywhere. You start having hot flashes, and you realize that miniskirts may not be for you anymore.
Still...
There is a beauty in getting older. You don't wonder about certain things because you've experienced them. You look at young girls and you want to tell them not to worry, but you don't because they think you don't know what you're talking about. But you do. Because you, unlike them, have experience.
I think about my friends who didn't make it this far. Camille, Toni, and Stacy won't get to know the joys of the aging process. They won't get to age out of watching sports because the players are young enough to be your sons.
Don't get it twisted. I thank God for every day of 48 years. I do. But sometimes...I miss my youth. Just sometimes.
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