Laugh Lines
Image Courtesy: Pinterest
We are so afraid to have lines all over our faces.
We are scared to find wrinkles in the creases of our smiles, for our fingertips to permanently prune like we’ve spent too long in a bathtub, for our hairlines to fall back and recede with the changing of the seasons.
You might see your first gray hair at thirty years old in a passing glance through the reflection of the mirror in a restaurant bathroom, and it might stop you dead in your tracks. You will see one more for each stop sign your teenager almost runs, one for each sprint through an airport terminal, one for each edge-of-your-seat football game, and even some for each clap of thunder that shakes your suburban home a bit too hard.
The fonts on your birthday cards will get bigger and you will find yourself needing to push the thick lenses of your glasses up on your head before you blow out your candles.
You will start to see lines in the ridges of your mouth, stretching with your words and expressions, folding and unfolding with the flow of conversations. Your eyes will grow tired, your smile may contain a permanent cappuccino stain, and the glimpses of youth in your face will be few and far between.
May a life well lived be at the forefront of your mind and may the aging of your body be the least of your concerns, and may you find yourself grateful that you lay out in the summer sun and didn’t spend your youth hiding underneath an umbrella (maybe wear sunscreen still).
I hope what I reflect on will be far from physicalities.
Was I kind enough on September 17th?
Did I do it right in high school?
Was my 40th birthday the best day of my life?
And I hope you remember what a privilege it is to have a body that carries the burden of your happiness; what a privilege it is to have lines that show your laughter; what a privilege it is to reach an age where we wrinkle and gray at all, and I hope you don’t forget to thank the stars every day that you made it past 17, and in honor of those who did not I hope you laugh as loud as you can for as long as you can. One wrinkle for each smile while reflecting on them.
When we reach the end of our lives, it won’t be the time spent with our faces pressed to a pout to prevent laugh lines that we remember. Our last hurrahs won’t be with shame, they will be with heads thrown back around the table, the air filled with endless laughter, passing around a bowl of apple cobbler, enjoying every last sweet bite.
What a privilege it is to go out laughing.
Strike Out,
Writer: Sarah Bourloukas
Editor: Blake N. Fiadino
Tallahassee