Do you know the signs of aging?

When I saw the ad the other night in O magazine, I laughed. If you look close, you can see that if you are still holding the little rectangular McCormick spice boxes, they are more than 15 years, yes, 15 years old! Throw them out. I pulled mine out, still in the neat alphabetical order I keep them in. Even more ridiculous, on the underside of several of them was the handwriting of my kids with the "price" they wrote on the tins when they played store. These could have been played with by Greg and Chris who are now 38 and 36. Those spices could be 30 years old! I should put them on Ebay as vintage spices. But alas, I think I will just throw these spices out; you might say they are "Old Spice", my dad's favorite mens cologne. And that's how I really know the signs of aging...plenty reading this will have never heard of Old Spice.

This is just an odd little post. I am well, now at Day 51 as a non smoker. Grief Support has just started again and as always, hearing of the fresh grief of so many is hard. Saturday is the start of Sonlight with my young African refugee kids and I am really excited about seeing them all again; grandson Denver is going to be joining me. Is that a sign of aging where you want to make sure your grandkids catch your vision? I know a real sign of aging. On the Fast Track bus going into church when 6 year old Maya sits next to me, she loves to stroke the soft mushy skin on the underneath part of my upper arm. Anyone over 50 knows of this flappy arm-wing thing. I can clearly remember petting my own grandma's soft mushy arm. What I don't remember is my grandma immediately flexing her biceps like I do to Maya. Who's aging? Me?