Transparentcy

Yesterday, my dad said that he could see through his skin. No, he doesn’t have dementia. He was serious; he could see the tendons in his lower arm through his skin. Yes, his skin has gotten thinner as he ages, almost paper thin. A bump on a doorknob leaves a scar.

But what about transparency? Aging to transparency. Skin so thin you can see the blood pumping through your veins. Occasionally, we look at our aging selves and wonder what happened.

I am interested in what happens inside. Are we more transparent? Do we share our love, our pain, our questions, and our answers? Does wisdom increase? It seems that older people remember their past with clarity. Their stories hold details of where they have been.

Transparency does involve light. Perhaps our light is passing through our body, helping us see the past more distinctly. We can see what we have learned with increased vision and maybe appreciate the process. Time is going by; I can see it in my skin. The chrysalis is transparent, and I can see the butterfly about to take flight. We are slowly transforming, seeing more carefully, and appreciating the wonder of it all.