The younger, thinner, prettier version
was much more about herself
and how she looked to the spectators in her own personal arena.
She was the center of her universe
and when things didn’t go as she expected
hope slipped through her fingers like sand on a sun soaked beach.
She wanted so much to be like anyone other than herself.
If she could only look like this person,
cook like that one, or write like a Pulitzer Prize winner.
Sometimes I panic at the lack of
goals accomplished on my ‘bucket list’…
and I truly tremble at the thought of being in His presence for lack of a “Well, done.”
But model number forty-four is comfortable being Kim.
This day in my age has found personal purpose
and is done longing for who I am not.
I prefer handmade cards from small children,
rather than expensive trinkets from handsome men…
because value isn’t measured in dollars.
My value is much better measured
by my service and significance to others;
and in knowing that my forty-four years on this blue marble-of-a-planet