Remembering Youth

by caccy46

She stroked my arm as we sat round the table; slowly and gently, just one stroke, from my elbow to my fingers. "Young skin," she slowly exhaled and let the thought hang nostalgically as the others continued playing their game. "It's been such a long time since I felt young skin." I did not move my arm from the table but felt a flush of sadness as I looked at this woman, younger by far than her fellow companions. I saw the beauty she must have been 40 years ago when she was my age. And now I stroke my daughter's arm and understand what she was saying.


caccy46, author of Disappearing, is 60 years old, a mother of two, and has been married for 32 years.