6/28/2012

Aging IS More Than Just Numbers


Forget the Oh Charley perfume of days gone by, the Heavenly Scent and Baby Powder Cologne I asked for.   I don’t need a gift card to upload more iTunes to my iPod nor a day at the spa unless it includes a wrap to remove the wrinkle that is situated from my bosom to my upper thigh.   I need a mirror that makes me look beautiful, a cream that does the impossible and a body that makes me move free of squeaks and creaks. Oh yeah, one where the next morning is not met with, why did I overdo it by getting out of bed and physically exerting energy yesterday?

Did my mother tell me this years ago and or did I conveniently forget it or maybe it was selective memory loss.  Why is aging more than just a numbers game?   Thank God I didn't know much about what I would lose or I would have probably set about breaking every bone in my body by trying to get all the adventurous activities done early.  Yeah, I would have   gone way overboard if I had known what was ahead and how soon it would come crashing to an end.  I thought this stuff only occurred to that lady in Driving Miss Daisy.  Heck I am not her! 

Let’s see, I would have done some of those things Tim McGraw sings about in his song, Live Like I am Dying.  I would have jumped out of airplane (regardless of my fear of heights and  flying), I might have learned to fence (even though knives in the kitchen are cause for a phone with a preset to 911)  and I would have played tennis more years and more rigorously instead of insisting my team mates, many times my spouse, hit the ball directly to me, thinking that it was a good idea to save my ankles for future sports I would play.   Plus, I thought I would be picking it back up later, when I had more time.   I have the time now but not the joint strength! One good strong cut on the court, I would be more likely to catch the ball on my mouth than with the racket. But I must say, I do like the tennis outfits a whole lot better now than years gone by. So maybe I could just buy the outfits and look like a professional player much like I do when I wear my ski gear.  

Speaking of skiing, our last ski trip was to Colorado.  I found the jolting of the skis as they cut across the terrain in Colorado run up through my legs straight to my wobbly knees. That is, until I landed on my rear.  This was followed, unfortunately, by an ungraceful fall to the ground, with my head slammed to the ground going approximately 30 mph which felt like 90 mph.  It literally whip lashed back and then bounced a few times.  I had no idea my head was that bounce-able.   Maybe I do have a hard head after-all?   With my head spinning, staring up at my husband’s face, I decided my skiing days were over.   Yes, the lodge down below with an outside deck with folks just gazing upwards at us fools on the slope, they with beer and hot chocolate mugs watching the mountain were more to my taste. I suppose they had a good laugh as I looked like a cut from the beginning of the Wide World of Sports where the great skier crashed into the giant slalom gates.  

Oh, who am I kidding? I was on the beginner slopes and had just crossed for all of 20 feet tops the medium difficulty slope only to get back over to the beginner slope.  My intended quick run was way too fast a speed since I did not make that stupid V with my skis correctly my husband was frantically yelling at me to make. Hence, next thing I know I was  about to wrap my arms around a tree line on the edge of the big mountain we were on.  As my husband repeated screamed “Stop”, or so he said, my brain froze.  Backing up a second, who can hear anything when you are flying in the opposite direction on a sky slope, in fright and the wind is whistling loudly over your ears.   He has the audacity to ask me later, “Did you not hear me yell?”  How the heck could I have heard that and think about it for a split second, if I knew how to stop, why would I have been making a beeline for the trees in the first place? 

I was unceremoniously promoted, or retired, to the senior group.    I was a damper on the ski party crowd,  even with ski lessons.  Gee, I thought I did good in those classes but maybe my husband  was right, they just gave up with trying to help me so passed me to get rid of me.  After my last run down the slopes, or rather crash landing,  I was beyond hope and a hazard for those that knew what they were doing on the ski slopes.  This included those obnoxious little children streaming and screaming past me with glee, with their cute little smiles cutting their skis here and there, showing off,  stopping on a dime with no look of fear on their bright little self satisfied  faces. I bid them good riddance and heading to my buddies on the deck with their mugs to watch others crash land on the slopes as I had.



It isn’t physically just our bodies that age but our looks too.  I always wondered if I would age gracefully. I am not sure, to this day, if I am or not.  Why can’t I be like Cher or Madonna or some of those other super stars that look like they just walked out of their 40’s when they are 60?  Could it be because they have a plastic surgeon as a best friend?  Why aren't any of my friends doing something like that?  My son can fix teeth (Dental)  and my daughter can fix internal body issues (medical) but let's face it, as we age we want someone who can fix BBB (Breast/Belly/Bottoms) or someone who loves Liposuction if not a full blown Plastic Surgeon specializing in making us look beautiful. Oprey says life begins at 50  so let's live it up! Hey, we can do it better with a brand new fixer up look!   

Can you visit a place like eHarmony and place ads for BFF’s instead of relationship mates?  You know friendships without benefits. Actually the kind of benefits I would like is plastic surgery benefits, and in return I will be your lifelong friend. I could write up something like this:

Looking for a wonderfully rewarding friendship with a competent plastic surgeon that specializes in undoing the facial and body aging process. In return, for complimentary initial complete work up (beauty body make over) and maintenance upkeep, I will be fully committed "till death do us part" to being a BFF. This includes shopping excursions, coffee dates, and meeting for dinners, phone chats, and even ladies night outs.   You will find me funny, engaging and a great listener.   Prefer someone with 15+ years of experience in the field, married and with references.  Can negotiate other terms as needed, you will find me very reasonable and a good patient, trust me. I am honest, all my friends tell me that!  

As a child, my grandparents Herrman as we called them had always asked, every birthday, if we had our wrinkle cream.   In those days, it never made much sense to me. Who would need something like wrinkle cream.  Why would someone want such a thing?  How important was it to remove wrinkles. Isn’t that vain,  do wrinkles really make someone’s face look that much different?  

Recently my close friend and neighbor Eileen had very intricate eye surgery.  As part of her recovery,  she was not allowed to hold her head up vertically for ten days. Can you imagine spending ten days walking around looking down at the ground the entire time?  Not only was her neck sore but she looked funny. At least, during this time she could wear no make up, no one knew because no one could see her face; eye contact was impossible unless you were a midget. She really did have to say "Who is it"  when you came knocking at her front door,  inspite of the glass on either side, because she couldn't look up to see.   

Eileen, one day,  took a mirror to check how her eye looked; she put it infront of her face with her head still  looking down at the ground.   OMG, she said to herself.  Was this a cruel joke; who was that woman staring back at her?  Apparently, it was some old broad with tons of loose skin and wrinkles. It could not possibly be her.

As she peered abit closer, she knew it of course was her. She was seeing herself in a new light, with new eyes that did not show herself very flattering. For someone who prided herself as the Belle of the Ball all her life, this was hard to take.  She had to look away and gain courage to look back in the mirror.  Glancing back she thought, I look a fright.  She realized that when you hang your face down in that position, gravity works to your is advantage and pulls all your excess skin without the nice elasticity of your youth to the forefront, that and the dreaded wrinkles.    On top of that, she was not allowed to wear make-up yet due to her surgery.  Amazing, she said, that when she is make-up less and looking at her face with all the signs clearly showing of aging, children don’t scream in fright at the site of her. She wanted to scream at the site of her! 

Personal Challenge:  Take a mirror, drop your head down looking at the ground, without make up on and place a mirror under your face.   You will see the image, as you age, that shows your face ain’t what it use to be.

Where the heck is that wrinkle cream?
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