when i grow up and turn sixtyfive.

mim: a woman with short grey hair who drinks assam golden tip tea every thursday morning at eight sixteen, right after she's just cleaned three bathrooms. she tries to coax me, the youngest, into helping... i play it off like it's more important to have me sweep. "i love sweeping, mim. i do it with style."

she's sixtyfive in a few weeks and i'm jealous of the woman she's become; her convictions are strong and her presence is gentle. she draws a self portrait every night before bed and she swears she's been doing yoga since before there were yoga mats. she's an avid birder and loves to car camp. she is rational and passionate and lives out her beliefs. she cares about us, deeply.

i'd be really proud if i could be like mim at sixtyfive.