There are lines around her eyes and whisps of gray in her upswept coiffure. She's not a young woman, but she was once. She's not like most women who scratch and claw to hold on to the fleeting beauty of youth for a moment longer than really should be allowed. She's embracing her age and relishing all that she has come through. Every crease in her brow has a story to tell and she wears those lines around her eyes like the badge of honor that they are to her. Looking at her face, you saw the sparkle in her crystal blue eyes and knew she was a beauty queen in her day. The grace with which she faced her aging was inspiring. I looked at her and silently hoped that one day I could be proud like her and relish who I had become instead of facing getting older with fear and regret.
I never knew her name. She was a regular customer who came in for coffee some afternoons while I was a waitress in my early twenties. I never really talked to her, other than to take her order, but years later I remember her face like it was yesterday. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen that was older, much older. Her beauty wasn't something she bought from a plastic surgeon or the latest potion in a bottle. It was the sparkle in her eye; the grace with which she carried herself that had me enthralled. I guess I remember her face so well because it was then that I decided I wouldn't fear the changes that came with age. I would embrace what each season of my life brought forth. By doing so, I hoped that when I was older that sparkle would reside in my eye too.
This entry and an explanation was inspired by Christina.