I catch just a snippet of conversation.
“You need to shave what?”
“My chin,” she says. “My mother never told me I’d need to shave my chin. Our mothers need to tell us these things.”
This is a place where real comes easy. Where we can speak the unspeakable, whisper a secret.
And we laugh. Because healing lives in humor. And sharing sucks the breath from fear.
The hospice nurse, I remember she shaved stray hairs from my mom’s chin. I wouldn’t have attempted that.
After Cindy dabs hot wax beneath my eyebrows and rips, she often moves to mustache, and I cringe. Not so much from the pain of it, but from the pain of it.
I stand at the counter and survey the array of tubes and bottles. The 20-something white-lab-coated consultant approaches.
I tug at my T-shirt, conscious of the sweet-and-sour sauce stain over left breast. “What’s your best coverup?” I ask. “Something that will bury these age spots on my jaw and these under-eye circles?”
She thumbs through her stock, checks labels, squeezes a dot of cream on finger, dabs the flaws in question. And then another on my cheek. I hadn’t noticed that.
I sigh.
At home I lean into mirror, stretch skin taut, dream of botox and sutures. I tuck chin to accentuate sags on lobster-skin neck. I get the flashlight, pick at and study a brown bump. It’s probably just another of those keratoses for which my dad so graciously granted me genes. But I make an appointment with my dermatologist. I’m late for my skin exam anyway. She’ll need to listen to me mutter more about how toadness doesn’t live in my bucket list.
I poke rolls above waistband and whine about bunions. My energy sags with the rest of me.
I pause for breath as I climb back up the path.
Everything takes more time. And I frustrate my kids when I can’t follow their rapid conversation. They don’t understand why I don’t understand.
I know I’m younger than many my age. But still I wonder. Where did I go? Why did I eat so many Oreos and M&M’s?
And my husband’s Medicare card arrives in the mail while I’m gone.
******************************
I’ve never done this before, joined The Nester and her October 31-day one-topic challenge. I don’t know if I can carry through. And I don’t want to talk about aging. And I don’t know what I’ll write about.
I thought about something more fun like wonder or creativity or even the 31st Psalm.
But this weighs on me more in this season of change, in this season of remembering. Because it was this time last year that I began to grow into the role of family matriarch.
And the Medicare card was the last straw.
Maybe if I take this journey I’ll find more comfort in this season. In this body. And maybe I’ll even be inspired to to make some changes that will lengthen my days. Maybe you will, too. There’s so much I wish I’d done as the younger me to prepare for the older me.
And would you believe it? Over a thousand bloggers at last count on all kinds of topics.
This could be fun.
Or not.
See all posts on this topic here.
Love your topic!! Pinned:)))
🙂 I hope I can stick it out.
Oh, I feel you, girlfriend.
🙂 🙂
Well I guess it’s better to come to grips with our age rather than to never reach it at all. I’m a work in progress in this particular area…Thanks for sharing! 🙂
What is that quote? Thinking…thinking…
I remember!
“Do not regret growing old. It’s a privilege denied to many.” (Unknown?)
I think of you, Karen, every time I look at the patch that used to be a garden. 🙂
Oh my! I love this! I get this! And am reading it as I am waiting for an MRI because my body is falling apart!! Love you my friend! ((Hugs))
I hope all’s okay, Sharon, and that they can put you back together good as almost new. Love you, too, friend.
Sandra, your topic is a bit like Deidra’s – Yes, you are going “there.” We prefer denial, don’t we? Besides that fact that I have to slip on my reading glasses to read your post I am perfectly young. Oh, did you want the rest of my list, too? Hah…I want to age gracefully and graciously. Look forward to your posts, and know that there are plenty of us walking alongside you with this!
I need all hands on deck!
I’ve worn contacts for 45 years. But getting those bifocals, and now those graduated lenses–oh my. I wear them as little as possible.
And going there…yes. What’s wrong with me? But I’m so glad for the company.
I wasn’t aware we had to sign up for the ’31 days’ challenge, just doing it on my blog anyway.(I think )
Your blog is funny. Yes we are all changing and there is nothing we can do about. Either we fight it or relax and let it happen. It is all about perspective.
I didn’t see any rules that you *had* to sign up, Sharon. 🙂
And yes, we don’t have a choice about aging or many of the changes that come with it, so we might as well adjust our perspective and shine.
Oh, I am so with you on this one, Sandra! “My energy sags with the rest of me.” I recall an 92-year-old lady in our church who was in hospital and answered the “How are you?” question with, “I’m just fine, thank you, but my body is wearing out.”
I don’t object to aging in general, but must admit it’s frustrating that arthritis prevents me from doing several activities that I used to enjoy. But I’m thankful for all the things I can still do. I’ve already outlived my mother who died at 64, and am grateful for the fresh joys of each new morning.
Your Laity Lodge photos are beautiful, and just right for this post, too. 🙂
Ah yes. A fine spirit in a worn-out house.That lady has spunk.
I find I savor more of each moment these days, grateful for each one.
Fascinating! You’re a brave one!
Yours will be one of the few 31 Days blogs that I’ll be following. So much writing to do, life goes on, and there’s so little time!
I can’t wait to see what you unpack for us … and believe me, at 57, I’ll be watching!
Absolutely fascinating! You’re so brave to tackle this fearsome subject and I am applauding you! {But you look too young to be writing about all this!}
I really look forward to following this 31 Day journey with you. Believe me, at 57, I’m going anticipating every single post!
Thanks so much, Linda. I hope I haven’t bitten off more than I can chew. 😉
And thank you so much. (I’ll be 64 in January. Yikes. (I always have to subtract. I forget.)
I am going to love this Sandy. All of it – yes, yes, yes. I think I’ve made peace with it all until I take the time to study my “unfamiliar” face in the magnifying mirror (not my friend). There is so much about this season of life to embrace with joy – if I get past the outward stuff.
You, my friend, are beautiful. Inside and out!
Thank you, Linda. You are, too.
I have to remind myself to stay in the moment and not focus on the years left.
Fun or not, it’s something we all will face. I’m glad you’re talking about it.
In fact, after seeing what all my friends are doing for the next 31 days, I have half a mind to just stay quiet. 31 Days of Insecurity. But I won’t.
I’m not sure what I’ve gotten myself into here. 😉
I LOVE this. Though it makes me sigh. And grimace. And frown a bit, too. Yes, this is the truth, ain’t it? I’ll be touching on it here and there, but you’ve got us off to such a grand start with all the hard stuff right out there in the open air. Good for you. And I’m older. Don’t think that’s a good thing, though.
And you’re so much wiser. I thought I’d be wiser. Maybe I am. But I’m so aware of how unwise I really am. Maybe that’s a good thing, though.
Growing older is not for sissies! 🙂 You’ve tackled a touchy subject for millions of baby boomers, but one that we need to “face” up to even without the botox. I have every confidence you can see this one through, Sandy.
Blessings and remember – we are as young as we feel on the inside. 🙂
I feel very young inside, Martha. I wish the outside matched. 😉
Change, change, change……most of us hate it in our organized, self-controlled
World. Yet, when major events happen like the early death of a spouse (my event) then we succumb to facing a new and often unwanted challenge. If we are a
Christian (I am) then we know that Romans 8:28 is still in the Bible, and so we hit pause, (big HIT) and start to really listen to the voices inside our heads….what lies are they telling us….where did my joy go….but, God answers “I am right here, I just want to bring new light into your life, into your heart and mind, into your spirit and soul.” And I choose! Will I allow the Great I AM to really dig into my deepest psyche, of how I have shaped my life, and really let go and allow God to have His way with me. his Word says that He is the way, the truth and the life. He only can bring new refreshment into my broken soul, to steady me, to enraptured me, to grasp me in His clutched hand. Is there really any other place I want to be. No, there is not. So I let go! And begin to soar!
You share important words here, Bonnie. How we face each moment is a choice. I know He still has a lot to do with us. And letting Him take our letting goes, letting go of hanging on, knowing He continues to work everything for good–it’s the best way to keep growing even in this season.
Growing older is certainly not for sissies. It takes determination to keep active, engage the mental faculties and eat healthy in order to have a body that although older, has a healthy glow, vigor and strength. Thanks for your insights and the fact that we all must face our mortality and keep our “temple” fit for life.
You are so right, Kathy. We need to care for body, mind, and soul. And make it a priority. And when I’m too tired, I need to remember that it’s the activity that wakes everything up.
I hear you Sandy. I, too, am the matriarch. It was one of the first thoughts that came to me when I realized I was also an orphan. It’s sobering, isn’t it? xox
The idea of being an orphan…I think you’ve mentioned this before. It’s hard to grasp as an adult, but it’s so true. My husband’s been an orphan for a long time. I’m not totally there yet. But that thought alone is sobering, yes. I’m glad God doesn’t leave us there.
I think of my dad so much these days. Most of his and mom’s friends have passed, all their siblings (except for Mom’s half-siblings–one of which is my age.) It must be a lonesome place. xoxo