Brothers

Brothers

I look tired, not old. There are paper crinkles and darker lines but there is no overarching surprise in my face, no slashing deep folds and no receding lip. Yet. I imagined this time of life to be filled with worry about sag and old and thumb twiddling and yet it’s the pinnacle of my years so far.

It’s my boys, silently connecting. It’s my husband, that word. It’s knowing that all my luck comes largely from working my ass off. It’s this picture, and all the moments beneath it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s