It still hurts to pull off a band aid

I honestly thought that when I grew up, things would forever change.  That I would never have another pimple, that I would handle everything "like a grown up", and that somehow the things that hurt as a kid, would not hurt when I was older.  Fail. Wrong. Simply put, it still hurts to pull off a band aid, no matter how old you are.  Hurt is hurt, pain is pain.

My parents are at that age where they are facing decisions regarding the care of aging loved ones.  There are no easy answers and I'm sure that whatever choices are made, someone will feel hurt.  It doesn't quit just because you're getting old.

I went to the eye doctor this week.  He told my that my eyes were normal, and going bad because of my age.  Pooh!  I didn't want to hear that!  I wanted to hear that my eyes are extraordinary and strong and unbelievably good for someone my age.   It just seems that everywhere I look, it's staring me in the face.  I'm aging and so are those around me.  It's inevitable.

Which brings me to my latest knitting project.

 I picked the yarns last weekend and knitted a few rows of what I'm going to call Seraphine.  I saw a movie about the painter; she was a housekeeper with enormous natural artistic ability.   You can't tell how old she is by her paintings, and they are lovely!  They are ageless, even though she was at least middle aged when she was discovered as an artist.
I read in the Bible today that he who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted. I believe that.