I looked in the mirror today and I saw an old woman. It was the first time it has happened, or maybe the first time that I allowed myself to see it. But I saw it in my eyes. These eyes are tired, with lines and bags. These eyes have seen too much. These eyes that have seen so much.I wonder when it happened, this getting old. Was it when I was taking out the garbage or running out for milk? Was it when I was sobbing because it feels like the whole freakin’ world has cancer? Was it when I was mourning my marriage?Did it happen when I was chasing my child across the park, laughing at how fast he has become? Did it happen as he dragged me across the ice, pulling me along, “Faster mama, lets skate faster?” Did it happen as I fed my beloved neighbors, as I kissed my friend goodnight, as I whispered grateful thank yous to the moon? Did it happen as I sang and danced, danced years away. Did it happen when I got the heart stopping phone call? Or when I collapsed in exhaustion? Did it happen the day that I fell in love? Or the day I fell out of love? Or the day I realized that love never really dies and falling is neither here nor there?I feel so young and unpracticed. I feel like a tiny baby girl, still so new in the world. Sometimes I feel so damn vulnerable and naive. I can’t believe these eyes are mine…these old woman eyes.