“We’ll never go gray,” June murmured, and I stilled. June lifted her head, and I met her watery gaze. “We’ll never get wrinkles.” “People spend a lot of money to avoid them.” I chuckled. “I wouldn’t,” she said, then crushed my heart when she added, “I would want nothing more than to see a wrinkle form on my forehead, evidence that I was getting older and living my life. I would smile with pure joy seeing a gray hair on my hairline because it would mean that we were being given time.” June sighed, and it took all that I had to not break down in tears. “And laughter lines,” she said, smiling. “I
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Cherish the wrinkles. It means you've been given time
