Will You Still Love Me?

I picture old Liz much like the current Liz. She still loves Harry Potter (Always.) and watching cooking shows. She claims to have learned to let go of the things she can’t control, but we both know she still worries about everything. She will never be a great cook, but she can make a mean Stouffer’s Lasagna. You know you can make that shit company fancy by adding bagged salad, premade garlic bread and a glass of cheap wine, right? She will never finish all those craft projects she’s bought supplies for. She will never keep up with the new planner she bought in January, no matter how many cool pens and highlighters she buys. She will always like to make plans, and love even more when they get canceled. She will always be so grateful for your kindness, gifts, etc., but she will remain terrible about mailing out thank you cards. She will still buy a greeting card for you on birthdays, anniversaries, etc., but will still leave them on the dining room table weeks later. She will do all the laundry and be so proud of herself, and then curse the baskets for weeks as she tries to remember which one had white socks and which had one had panties. She will continue to love her husband and children more than anything else in the world. She will still love pretty pictures, chick flicks, swoon-filled lovey music, and the smell of rain. She still won’t have a green thumb and all her plants will die, but she may have taken up knitting or puzzles. Her joints may be a little achier, her hair a little greyer, and her middle has grown more out than in. She’s soft and squishy and gives great hugs. She walks a little slower, but that gives her more time to people watch.