Sitting in Penn Station today, I was thoroughly enjoying that round of people watching, when I noticed an older gentleman dressed in a suit sit down next to a younger man also in a suit. I was trying to figure out their personalities as an observer {uncreepy.}, trying to figure out whether they're humorous people, or more serious, kind, curt, etc. the list is pretty long. They were talking about the younger man's shoes, and he was complaining about blisters from his new Macy's shoes {again, uncreepy that I know that}.
As I was watching this interesting impromptu interaction between generations, I noticed one thing that differentiated the men from each other.
The older man had smile lines.
and after thinking about it for a good couple of minutes, I realized that I really like smile lines.
They are wrinkles were formed after years of happiness...
They're the product of countless laughs shared at the dinner table, laughs shared with high school friends, formed while smiling during a first date, pure joy while watching his bride walk down the aisle towards him, smiles formed on the day of his first child's birth, tearful smiles watching that child get married, and even more smiles from his grandchildren's arts and crafts and silly faces.
Those smile lines are a testament to his countenance, and character.
I could tell that he loved life, and that he has learned throughout his many years, how to find joy in the smallest details of life.
All I can say is that I hope I look like this when I'm that age.
Love,
