“I’m in the early stages of dementia,” said the cheerful woman of my age or younger.
Now there’s a conversation stopper.
Awakened by the sun in my face one morning, I flung my arm over my eyes to block the light and get some more sleep.
Awakening a second time, I saw the arm with its sagging crepey skin and thought, “My god! There’s an old woman in my bed!”
Is it the wisdom of age or the fading sight of age or the apathy of age that says material things don't matter much – material things like vacuuming? Or the overgrown garden, the peeling paint, the fogged windows?
11 comments:
Plus, the alternative to aging stinks!
I'm going with wisdom. Definitely wisdom.
Dear Vicki, I am there with you.
Do you remember a book from a while back by Gail Sheehy, called Passages? I read it when I was in my early 30s and thought she was on to something. As the decades have drifted by, I realize that such passages can take place stealthily. Life is such an interesting progression.
xo
Oh yeah I hear ya, but it's okay. So many have not had the privledge of growing old.
Gosh. I have been having the same thoughts.
Yes, as we begin to catch glimpses of the end of life I believe we begin to prioritize the things around us. For me it is spouse, family, friends, home that are important. Also I am beginning to value the doctors and nurses who are helping me stay alive!
I guess you are trying to bring me up out of my funk of already feeling old today. We can survive but I don't glance in mirrors anymore.
Hmmmm... I've noticed wrinkly saggy arms in the morning too. Horrible. My little grandson loves wobbling my arms, he thinks it's funny! Just wait until his arms are saggy.....!
Dont want tos sound weird but I looked at myself in the mirror the other day and saw my skeleton. I will take old leathery, wrinkly skin any day.
"I don't feel very different," she said, "I know it's strange. I guess I've gotten used to all these little aches and pains. But I still love to dance. You know we used to dance the night away...back when we were beautiful, beautiful, yes."
Some lyrics from "Back When we were Beautiful" sung by Emmylou Harris with Rodney Crowell. Look it up, it's really on target for women our age.
"I hate it when they say I'm aging gracefully. I fight it every day, I guess they never see. I don't like this at all, what's happening to me."
But at least we do have our priorities right.
I especially relate to the line, "there's an old woman in my bed" from time to time, I feel the same, passing by a store window and seeing a reflection of "who's that older gal?" Or in photos with friends, my contemporaries from school years, "are we really 70 years old?" Other times, there's the positive, a compliment while working out or somewhere, "really you cannot be 71 years old?" Oh yes I can and am. The response, "well you don't look it." And I think back to what I heard years ago from I can't recall whom, "yes this is me, I am 71 and this is how 71 looks."
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