I came across a story today by Amy Julia Becker called Arms Like My Grandmother that touched my heart. I think mostly because I can recall numerous times my little man having similar comments of my mother's hands. He is always so intrigued by her wrinkly hands and arms. He takes them in his own hands and turns them from one side to the other looking them over and then he always says to her in a concerned little voice, "Grandma, what is wrong with your arms?" Her responses is always the same. She throws her head back and laughs with a twinkle in her eye and tells him that Grandma is just getting old and it happens to the best of us. He usually then throws his arms around her and says, "Grandma I love you."
I keep meaning to take a photo of their hands one over the other, so I can tell him that story when he is grown some day. I really need to do that soon.
I think it is so easy to let one's self get consumed with what the world says beauty should be...but to me there is something special in growing old and loving the woman you've become over the years, even with the wrinkles, extra pounds and gray hair. Something simple and beautiful about embracing yourself as you are and just letting the love inside shine through to the world. I think it may just be called being authentic, kind of like The Velveteen Rabbit.