Some days, I complain about my seemingly lack of energy. And the torture is everyday, I get to see a kid who has the supply of energy equal to a hundred horses. Boundless, even. I wonder if I can get that from the drugstores.
There are times when I try hard to stifle a vain scream as I frantically rummage through my kikay kit for a cream... or a concealer or something, anything to help me cope with the new indentations on my face that I noticed in my reflection on the mirror.
I frown when my clothes suddenly feels tight and then blame my slower metabolism for the excess flabs.
But one afternoon of late, on my way home, I heard someone over the airwaves say: Do not resent growing old because many are deprived of this privilege.
Although I did not resent growing old, I did not like it either. (But then the prospect of growing old leaves little to the appeal, ey?) So I felt that was meant for me.
That statement - it showed me the prospect of getting old in a different light and I just could not look at growing old the same way as before.
I'm not dumping out my prevarication tools but I thank God for giving me the chance to age gracefully. It's just great to be alive. And yes, I thank him for those tools, too.