Youth is celebrated.

Everyone ages.

Everyone dies.

A new, baby tree is so cute and beautiful, really.

Flexible – it can often wave to the ground in a heavy wind.

Short – barely seeing the horizon over older trees.

Bark – youthful and smooth.

Bark is without many marks or deep grooves.

Bright green and tender leaves… small and dainty too.

The older tree climbs far above the new tree. The trunk is thicker. Its bark is deeply grooved – yet rough. It’s apparent that it has had much wear and tear over the years. The trunk is strong and stable. Its branches can hold the weight of climbing children or homemade swings. It can stand firm through strong winds. It tops the other trees giving it the perspective many others cannot see. Its leaves are dark and thick – tough, veiny, not new and tender – thick sometimes coarse. Each mark and groove tells a story – of each storm weathered, seasons that it’s been through.

My most precious grandma stayed in a nursing home. My daughter said, “Mom, nursing homes are like orphanages for old people. They are mostly alone with visitors far and few between – they come in for an hour to visit once in a while then they’re gone again.” It crushed her heart.

Youth is idolized in our nation, and older people are devalued. Getting old isn’t glamorous. 

What’s the

Newest trend?

The most youthful moisturizer?

The coolest jeans?

The latest diet?

Plastic surgery – lift it, tuck it, change it, keep it youthful.

Everyone wants to stay young. But its in growing that we have stories, wisdom and testimony of our lives storm survival that makes us like that tall tree – we gain perspective, marks, peacefulness in the storm – because we know we will make it through – even in total loss. We know there’s a circle of life – and that we are just a tiny part of it.

Our life – what use to be larger than life (you thought you were somebody), now seems so small and like we haven’t left enough of a mark.

All those wasted years believing I was invincible.

Everyone ages.

Everyone dies.

Someday Your Feet Will Be Carried too.

One day, the very people you see no value in, you will be like them. You could be alone in a nursing home wondering – will anyone remember who I am in 100 years.

Remember when you are on your next trip in nature, the most beautiful trees are the ones that are weathered, large – with intricacies in every branch, those with the thickest trunks, the tallest – most mesmerizing in height – like they reach the heavens, the ones with leaves larger than your hands.

That same stunning beauty can be found in the wrinkle lines, the spotted hands, the thick trunk, and hunched over back of an elderly person – their stories – they carry them in their body and their minds. They will mesmerize you – if you will just ask.

Just ask.

Maybe you will find some wisdom to help your tiny new leaves weather some future storms.

Because you… you know they’re coming.

Love, 

Sheri