It's spring--the world is young, but me, I'm feeling OLD
Younger than springtime--I'm not. A few observations noted in the harsh light of day.
All winter while I was tucked into turtlenecks and wrapped in scarves, the skin on my chest was quietly adopting that thin tissue paper look. I’m on my way to looking like a poorly wrapped package.
Looking at my neck, face, upper arms, I realize my flesh is steadily loosening its grip from my body. Collagen-wrecking gremlins are haunting my days and nights. Really, I try not to think that aging is dying in slow motion but it is. This is like Pirates of the Caribbean. I have this sense that my flesh is moving farther and farther from my bones! I fear I'll one day have to wrap myself in duct tape to keep everything where it belongs.
When I cross my legs and my pants’ leg rides up, I get a glimpse of calves that look like frozen chicken parts—pale, plucked, purplish. Noooooo! I don’t want to look like a Perdue pinup. Where’s the smooth, poreless skin of yesterday? If I’m going to morph into an “old bag,” I’d prefer my aging skin have the lovely warm patina of a classic Coach purse.
All these changes are clearly visible to me because I’ve become a person with reading glasses perpetually perched halfway down my nose. I have multiple pairs scattered around the house, even a pair attached to a dorky neck chain. I have some with wire frames and some with plastic frames, including a pair with a square shape and Burberry plaid design. The former make me feel like a granny, the latter, chosen to be fun and hip, make me look like Woody Allen—a dirty old man. What was I thinking! GAH!
Maybe I should abandon my glasses and enjoy a softer, kinder view, a new outlook. Blur the edges a bit. Hide the imperfections by losing the details. Focus on the big picture and age (gulp) gracefully.
© 2006 Veronica McCabe Deschambault. All rights reserved.
May 23, 2006
Reader Comments (15)
I am sure you are a wonderfully kept woman and that the aging process is only evident to you. We are our own harshest critics.
:)
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I am certain I will be knee deep in reading glasses soon and will not know where I can find any of the 50 pairs I have purchased....that memory loss would have nothing to do with my age though, I have done that stuff forever.
I totally agree with Mignon that aging gracefully is a state of mind, and with Teebs that we are our own harshest critics. Still, I can't help but notice the little changes that age and babymaking hath wrought on the ol' exterior. I try to put it in perspctive by remembering how needlessly harsh I was on my 21-year-old body...I'm sure that, 15 years from now, when I hit 50 and menopause is looming, I will feel similarly nostalgic for my current 35-year-old body. Dimpled butt, fine-lined forehead, de-perked boobs, 10 extra pounds and all.