I remember when I was younger when I would be with cousins and find them old at 24. I somehow had this notion that by 24 you were supposed to be everything that you wanted to be already. And yet here I am, not even close.
I feel old. Really, for the first time I feel that I am... mature. Or at least, supposed to be. I look back at days gone by... Think of them fondly. Like the way old people think of their youth.
Still... There is a lot to be thankful for. Family, friends, love and life. And growing old gracefully. Cheers!
