The Crossroad

I am at the crossroads. Do I go left, and selfishly pursue my own desires, leaving all that is familiar, but at times choking me? Choking me until I feel I am suffocating by the routine, mundane facets of my life. I look in the mirror, aaahhh, the signs of aging, leaving their disgusting marks of the blows that life has dealt me, with the signs of life's trouble etched on my face by wrinkles and furrows. I want desperately to shatter the mirror, and run, run backwards to get my bearings back, and change the mistakes I have made, and make decisions that would lead to an exotic, romantic life. I can't go back, but I can move forward, their is still time. I can walk and run, I still have some attractive features that the evil, devil "father time" has not grabbed hold of yet. I can still pursue some dreams, find laughter, regain romance, and see places my eyes (behind the bifocals) have not seen, but have yearned to see. There is still time for magic, enchantment, and joy. All the things I have never done, are still there to pursue.

Do I go right? Stay where I am with my rut, where I feel secure. Look at the beauty, beneath the cobwebs, that had once lured me down this road. Do I stare at the face in the mirror, and decide I will age gracefully and with dignity? While studing my features closely, I will look at the face that stares back, sometimes ruthlessly, and yet sometimes softly, revealing the warmth of laughter that the tiny lines in the corners of my eyes reveal. Oh there was laughter, not all sorrow, not all pain that created this aging face. Look at the familiar, the worn photograph of a child so dear, and so precious, that has moved on in their life, to create my grandchildren. Oh, my wonderful grandchildren, my precious daughters, what sunshine they still bring into a life, that seems so dull and lifeless. The ring, in my jewlery box, from a man who had been bewitched by my laugh, had desired me more than anything he had ever yearned for. There is much joy and so much love on this path. Do I leave to chase the unknown, which may put more tragedy and pain into a life that no longer deserves it, a life that has walked holding hands with tragedy and needs not risk new trauma?

I am afraid. Afraid to go left, and afraid to go right. So do I just stand still and stagnate. I am much to old to be this indecisive. I search my heart, I search my soul. I search every worn fiber of my being for the decision.

It comes to me in a whisper, a tiny voice fluttering in my busom. I go right, for I have had all the things that the left fork has to offer. I have had romance, both from my first love and my last. I have had adventure, raising my children, watching them grow and change. I have had magic, the kiss from my husband, the burning touch of his hand, as he lovingly traced the intimate parts of my body. I have had miracles, looking at the innocent face of my first born infant, with its tiny body curled in the crook of my arm. The left road could never offer me more than what I have already experienced.

I will go right, and find beauty in aging, wisdom in aging, and appreciate what God has so generously blessed me with. Oh, such precious peace!