I know I keep mentioning ironies that seem to come with age, but I just keep coming across them. The other day I found one staring me in the face as I sat across the table from my nephew and watched him devour a cookie with great concentration and delight.
When young, the simple things in life are treasures: such as cookies (which I have to admit seem much bigger in the hands of a child!), discovering it’s possible to write on the foggy bathroom mirror, or even (for wee ones) holding a colorful sticker or pretty leaf in the hand for the first time.
But through the years, it took more and more to get me excited and giddy. Exciting TV shows became the norm, yummy desserts became common place, shopping for a beautiful dress became just another bullet point on my to-do list, and even traveling lost a bit of its spark.
But lately I’ve noticed how I’ve reverted back to enjoying the simple things, like watching my nephew eat his cookie.
The simple has become relaxing– and with a little dash of something extra. Appreciation? Contentment? A combo of both?
I still long for great things. I still dream complicated dreams. I still revel in conquering something difficult.
But age has brought back to me the treasures in the more mundane. And I hold those treasures tightly.
Creator of Love, Auntie.