old

Old people fascinate me.

Wisdom oozes from their every pore.

Conversing with them is like opening a history book.
Their wrinkles came from worries of sickness and world wars.  Their Pearl Harbor was our 9/11.
They remember it like yesterday.  Imagine the horror or running to the basement and looking out an upstairs window and seeing the silhouette of a japanese fighter pilot...or wondering if a child will die from polio or scarlet fever.
Will they have enough food to feed their children?
No microwaves, or megastores, dishwashers, or indoor plumbing.  Most depend on their faith in God, the creator of the universe, for their daily bread and claim those days to indeed be "the good ole days."

One of my favorite "old people" is someone who "adopted" me after learning my parents are both deceased.  I was ordered to get some water.  I curiously obliged.  I handed the glass to her to which she proceeded to throw in my face.  REally.  She did!  The elderly can do whatever they want!
She told me I was now officially her adopted child, and I look forward to receiving her birthday cards in the mail, handwritten, every year.  The thought of her makes me smile.

I want to be one of those old people some day...and I want to be worthy of every one of those wrinkles.