My highly logical, humbly beautiful, 23-year-old daughter randomly shouted out during our mother daughter outing, “Mom, you’re having too much fun for a 50 something year old woman!”. I laughed the shared holiday coffee drink right out of my mouth. Partly because of how eloquently she brushed over which birthday I had just celebrated but, mostly because I remember thinking the same thing about my own parents. We baby boomer children didn't shout out seemingly selfish, personal frustrations at one’s parents. No, unlike the open, honest millennial generation, we remained respectful to a fault. We liked being safely tight closed doors. Keep in mind my daughter is both logical and millennial, and this time she is also right. I AM having fun. Almost carnival type fun, similar to the same rush you get from eating cotton candy at the top of a Ferris wheel. I’m experiencing child-like joy and, I’m more mellow too, aging gracefully but not willingly, like a fine wine. How can I f...
...whatever the eyes see and the heart feels.