The Days of Our Lives

When I pull my hair back, I see two gray ones.  When I raise my eyebrows, my entire forehead furrows into rows which never really settle back down.  My chin hosts a collection of (regularly plucked) stiff bristles.
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I’m getting old.

I don’t mind the fact that my boss is younger than me, that I could practically be the kindergarten teacher’s mother, or that I’m almost old enough to by my own children’s grandparent.  Truly, I don’t because I value life experience and I suspect that I’m a little smarter now than I was when I was earning straight A’s in high school.

But I’d like to stop now.  I’d like to just stay in my mid-forties, thank you very much.  I’m not interested in aching joints and lagging memory and sensible shoes.  Okay, so I am interested in sensible shoes (Chuck Taylors are sensible, right?).  I don’t want my cheeks to sink into jowls.  I’d like to avoid dependency on Depends.

I find the movement of time and its consequences so puzzling.  Weren’t my teenagers just babies a moment ago, unable to sass me because they hadn’t yet acquired language?  Wasn’t I just trying to get pregnant and moaning about my empty house and crying on Mother’s Day because I had no one to give me a Carnation?

These children are constantly changing–bringing home papers with tidy numbers printed in crooked rows, playing raucous music with words I cannot understand, laughing at jokes I don’t find amusing–and I am bewildered, wondering where time has gone, even though I see its ravaging marks on my face.

I’ve heard of sailors at sea who veer off course by an inch and end up hundreds of miles from their destination.  I think I’m heading in the right direction, though I guess we won’t know until we land on shore and hope that we disembark on a friendly tropical beach and not on a snake-infested island without fresh water.  (Sometimes, the storms rage and I despair.)

Meanwhile, I’m going to leave those gray hairs because I have a feeling I’ll end up bald if I start to pluck every single gray.

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The Days of Our Lives

4 thoughts on “The Days of Our Lives

  1. Time seems to be so cruel, but the wisdom and the experience replace the future we wait for. And though I don’t look forward to depending on Depends and being unable to depend on my mind I seek everyday to build the memories and experiences that will help me not to care that I am really old.

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  2. Cazza says:

    It’s true that some experience will make you the person you ought to be. It’s in those moments that you stop and you learn to appreciate these experience and treasure the people around you, especially those who care for you and love you unconditionally. Even when they know that your no way perfect, it’s amazing how they can still love you even at your worst.

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  3. Beautiful post. I’m already jowly and I’m only 33! And the two very distinct frown lines right above my nose drive me crazy. You’d think if we become more and more of a beautiful creature on the inside, maybe the outsides could match? Guess not.
    It’s all in the eye of the beholder though – I actually quite like gray hair! 🙂

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