Um, ok.
Until today...because I watched [the first half of] it today! I'll finish it tomorrow when I'm ready to emotionally embrace the ending...tear.
What an incredible story. It makes me think about something called life. Life: our existence. We don't know anything else. We've seen death, felt death, tasted death, but truly no one who is alive has known anything different. Life...what a precious, fragile thing.
Compare the Rose of old to the younger version of herself. Young Rose is vibrant, fully clear-minded, able-bodied. Her concerns are small; she knows little of what the world truly holds. Her beauty is flawless, untainted by the years that would ultimately carve themselves into her face.
Fast-forward to the centenarian whose memory is wearing thin. Frolicking around the deck of a ship is no longer a fact of life. She doesn't lower her lashes at the mystery of a caring young man, for he isn't a mystery anymore. Her bones carry weathered skin from years past, and truly she is a wealth of matchless worth, yet the current generation casts her aside like a forgotten toy.
One day my beauty will fade. Today, I feel the eyes of men assessing what they see. Today, I look expectantly to the future, having not a clue what it truly holds. Today, I have hope that my life will be a story worth telling when I'm old and gone.
But one day, when I'm old and still here, my outward beauty probably won't be a drawing card for people. And that's okay, it's not what matters anyway. But I don't want people to look at me as a 'once-upon-a-time'. I want to be someone who cares, someone who's still in touch with the world and the current generation, someone who can love them and speak wisdom into their lives. I want to get closer to God with each breath and one day breathe in and be with Him.
My 100th birthday will be here before you know it, and I want to live all those years in between exactly how God wants me to.
