It’s a slow insipid slide down the aging chute. And my body betrays me despite my best efforts to ignore it. I have just a few issues with getting just a bit older. I ‘d like to claim them and then just leave them where they lay here on this page and walk away.
Today, my joints ache. When I birthed Fiona, I suffered some pretty good post-partum joint ache which my friend Melissa the nurse informed me is a thing they acknowledge in Scandinavia but not in America. As my hormones fluctuate within the month now, I feel that same hook under the knee caps ache, tennis elbow and finger ache. When Fiona pulls on them to lead me somewhere, I holler.
My favorite one to anguish and fret over is my hair’s sudden decision to vacate my scalp. Say it is the post baby hormones. Say it’s stress or not enough vitamin E or age or my weight loss. Say what you want but it doesn’t make it any easier to stomach watching the globs of hair go down the drain. I used to have such thick amazing hair that it would clog the basin when they tried to wash it at the hairdresser’s. I’m freaked out and humbled about this one.
I do what any aging woman can do. I’ve grown my thinning hair long and covered my grays. I get my eyebrows plucked instead of overdoing it myself. I’ve whitened my teeth, I stay fit and am losing weight, and I plan to totally recommit to self tanning spray come Spring time. But the jowls still hang down on both sides of my mouth like I’m part baby basset hound. And I have begun the famous scarf collection for neck camouflage. Make-up makes it better but I really hate being made to stare at my hooded old lady eyelids in the attempt to make the best with what I’ve got.
It’s surely a grieving process I need to suffer through. The loss of youth is not amusing. I know you don’t think I look as old as my driver’s license says I am. You are always sweet to say so. I wished I could put your rose-colored sunglasses on to see me. But alas, I am just waiting to get over myself and am laughing often. Because the last defense against age is laughter. And they’ll be some pretty good laugh lines around my eyes when my time comes to bid the world a farewell.