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Aging gratefully
Filed under: Just For Moms, Relatives, Activities: Babies
My mother has always said that getting old is better than the alternative. She's right, of course. But that little nugget of wisdom does not necessarily make those aging milestones easier to take. And while I completely sympathize with Jennifer's acne horrors, there is something worse than adolescent zits on an adult face. It's adolescent zits on a grandmother's face, clashing with the gray hairs and wrinkles and the brand new pair of bifocal glasses.
Yep, I am officially middle-aged. My new glasses have managed to do what becoming a grandmother, turning 40, and the appearance of gray hairs could not. They have made me feel old. Not ancient old, but like I've crested the top of the mountain of life and am now on the downward slope.
Aging is a fact of life and I have long ago accepted that. But the glasses have given me pause. Actually, lots of pauses. In front of the mirror, studying my own face. And who do I see staring back at me in that mirror? My mother.
I called my mom last night to whine about my failing eyesight. She sympathized and advised and we talked for the better part of two hours. After our conversation, I felt a lot better. But it wasn't really anything that she said that cheered me up. It was the fact that she is still here to say it. I guess this aging thing has me thinking about that path we all must walk down the other side of the mountain. None of can know exactly where that path ends, but I am down-on-my knees grateful that I still have my mother to lead the way.
Yep, I am officially middle-aged. My new glasses have managed to do what becoming a grandmother, turning 40, and the appearance of gray hairs could not. They have made me feel old. Not ancient old, but like I've crested the top of the mountain of life and am now on the downward slope.
Aging is a fact of life and I have long ago accepted that. But the glasses have given me pause. Actually, lots of pauses. In front of the mirror, studying my own face. And who do I see staring back at me in that mirror? My mother.
I called my mom last night to whine about my failing eyesight. She sympathized and advised and we talked for the better part of two hours. After our conversation, I felt a lot better. But it wasn't really anything that she said that cheered me up. It was the fact that she is still here to say it. I guess this aging thing has me thinking about that path we all must walk down the other side of the mountain. None of can know exactly where that path ends, but I am down-on-my knees grateful that I still have my mother to lead the way.
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ReaderComments (Page 1 of 1)
1-17-2008 @ 6:13AM
christine said...Sandy, how old are we talking here? This post made me feel downright depressed. It seemed as though you'd put your hands in your pockets and were slowly walking off into the sunset staring at the ground. I'm in my late forties. I used to dread 50. Not any more. Now I can't wait. The second half of your life can open up in front of you to be lived with a strength, grace, wisdom, and power that you are just beginning to understand. 25yr olds have nicer skin, I guess, but there is no depth or wisdom in their faces yet. Those are the features of YOUR face.
Do come and visit : http://www.empoweredattraction.com
Christine
PS - maybe some cool rectangular glasses in a frame that's not too narrow, in an aqua color (you look like a Spring to me, but my monitor's colors are not so good).
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1-17-2008 @ 8:11AM
Jill said...Yes, I am becoming my mother. On the phone at my 25th birthday I asked her when she first noticed gray hairs. "25". On my 30th I asked her when she'd first noticed little lines around her eyes. "30". At 40 I asked her when she stopped getting zits. "I'll let you know" was the answer!
I've decided to stop coloring my hair to see how gray I really am. I think I've got a pretty good distribution which may look much like the highlights I've been paying for these past years. If I feel old and dreary I can always color it again, but part of me wants to be gray. I want to like myself as I age. This is the body that living all these years (and birthing my children) has given me. I've earned the gray hair and the small lines. I wish old wasn't so negative in our society. Instead I want to focus on the wisdom that comes with the years. Damn, I'm getting wise!
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