Motored home from Peachtree City facing a sky canvas of gray repose colored clouds dripping rain at a steady pace. The gloomy sky made me sad for a few moments replaying all the memories with the grandchildren that Chief missed out on. But with my faith, I have to believe he is watching over us. He knew I didn’t enjoy traveling alone and I feel his presence on my trips to the grandchildren’s home. It’s a pleasant drive to Peachtree City. Easier than that long drive to Augusta.

I’m happy to be pondering in my porch swing. It’s raining but that doesn’t phase the birds or me. I filled up the finches’ feeder and several minutes later they came to squabble over the perches. My garden has blossomed and grown these last few days. Wishing for my green tomatoes to hurry and turn red. Forgot to tell Stew to pick the cucumbers. Found eight big ones. I’ll just scrape the seeds out and eat them anyway.

My limelight hydrangea, heavy with rain, has 22 blooms on it. So beautiful with its blooms of pistachio green. The blooms are bent over as if they are praying for some first day of summer sun. I haven’t planted the hydrangea yet, I just sat its pot down in my yard in my daddy’s huge old pressure cooker and it’s thriving. Well, it was thriving but the new neighborhood dog just peed on the biggest bloom. Bad dog! My grass, glistening in the rain, is the prettiest lime green color. The green grass and the limelight blooms are so pretty contrasting each other.

I’m hearing a rain drop symphony with a far away wind chime melody. The gutter is the bass drumbeat keeping the drops and drips on tempo. The tree leaves’ drips are a chorus of soloists. The birds are really singing, maybe they have missed me. Two doves are cooing at the same time but one of them is a little bit off pitch. Sounds like beginning band when some one’s instrument needs a good tuning!

The sun finally broke through the clouds in late afternoon. She’s surrounded by gray clouds filling up with rain moving swiftly across the sky. The wind is rustling the trees leaves. I think there’s a storm close by.

I’m tired but it’s a happy tired. I went swimming with my grandchildren yesterday. One remarked, “Oh, you can swim?” Wanted to say, “No, I’m so chubby, I just float.” Realized if I’d said that we would have laughed till we choked and drowned so I just smiled. I love the innocence of childhood.

I’ve always thought age was a state of mind and my Chief was a good example of that. I’m sitting here in the swing wondering if I’m “old.” I’m looking at a photo of my grandmother Lane, “Big Ma,” on the beach in Pensacola, Florida. She’s dressed in a black bathing suit with fancy straw a hat on. Always thought she was old in this photo but she’s only a year older than I am now.

I ran across the best paragraphs about aging today written by Judy Dench. Someone asked her about being old and she writes of the freedom of being old and how freeing it is. I can relate to every sentence specially the line, “If I want to cry for a lost love I will.” Being older we can stay up late, walk proudly into the ocean in our grandmother bathing suits, not worry about gray hair or a few extra pounds. Being older means we have experienced heart aches. We appreciate all life has to offer. We eat the ice cream after supper and the occasional Hershey kisses. We look at our gray hair in the mirror in the morning and see our smile hasn’t aged. I’m enjoying this stage of my life. Guess I am old and that’s okay.

Judy Dench writes — “Now to answer the question honestly, I can say I like being old because old age makes me wiser and freer! I know I’m not gonna live forever, but while I’m here, I’m going to live by my own laws, those of my heart. I’m not going to regret what wasn’t, nor worry about what will be. The time that remains, I will simply love life as I did until today, the rest I’ll leave to God.”

Amen!