It's in the face

I don't know this old woman. She just passed by when I was having a quiet coffee. I am sure I'll never see her again. There was something in her face, the lines that spoke of lived history. We are now in a society which is termed as  "post modern". Knowledge and progress are its twin Gods. This means, amongst other things, that people of an older age group are often seen as an incumbrance. Their lived histories are not considerd as valid any more. Their voices absent at many tables where our shared future is being debated and agreed. We do this at our peril. I imagine her pointing to one of the many lines across her noble face and saying, this reminds me of my childhood - one very different that yours. Then to another deep indent where she recalls delivering support to her children at a time when there was an absence of affordable health care. A third crease points to the difficulty of living in a world where women were to be seen but never heard. I hear her whisper "we are here today because I gave you my yesterdays". Value old age as the gift it is.