Those big scary birthday numbers happen to us all (if we live long enough). With any luck we manage to handle those landmark zero years with some kind of grace and not hyperventilating into a brown paper bag.
Remember that a birthday is just another day followed by another.
Time does march on.
We put aside the panic that built the entire nine year and wonder where the wrinkles came from and if they were always there. We hear our parents' voices when we open our mouths.
I fear that someday, not soon I hope, I will look in the mirror and say to the image "Oh, Grandma, what are you doing here?"
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