I feel I've gotten to know you through this essay.

I'm 67. I can't say I feel anything much about it except that in three years I'll be seventy and that seems undeniably old. I wonder if my feelings will change when the time comes.

I wish I would see my mother's face in mine. I look exactly like my grandmother, right down to the single remaining dark stripe in my otherwise gray hair. I feel distinguished when I catch my reflection in a window. Granny! No, just me and my genetics.

Oh, well...