Thursday: Walk-ins!
I find myself laughing this morning. Why? Well you see Mark had to take some pictures for me yesterday for my position at asknow.com. You might say why is that a big deal? Well something has happened while I was not looking. I think that I might be a walk-in. A lot of people wonder if they are walk-ins and I am definitely sure that I am. Who I saw in that picture does not look a bit like me. She has more wrinkles. She is heavier. And, she is definitely older than me. So the only possible solution is that I am not the person who is in that picture. And, the only logical conclusion is that I am a walk-in. I don't know why I didn't choose a younger, healthier, less-wrinkled person to occupy at this time of my life, but it happened. This has to be one big karmic joke created by the universe to help me understand a huge spiritual lesson. Because there is no way that I am getting old, have wrinkles and I am not definitely fat. So if you are having a chat with the Lords of Karma, let them know that I am not pleased. I would tell them myself, but I am not talking to anyone who would play such a joke on me. Check your mirror out - you to may be a walk-in.I find that aging is not as graceful or fun as I thought it was going to be. Oh sure, I had my trauma at 39 like most people do but that was vanity. I had my reality check at fifty but that was just menopause. I am now sixty-one and a half and I can assure you this is not what I was expecting. It is totally impossible that I am old when inside I still feel young. I have those morning aches but that is the weather. My pants are getting a little tighter but that is because I put everything in the dryer. And the scale, well I can't see down that far to read it so it doesn't exist. It is at times like this that I totally approve of cosmetic surgery. It is funny that this should bother me to much as I don't look in the mirror that much except to put on make-up and I am having more and more days where I don't even bother to do that.
When I turned sixty, I said I was going to be sixty and sexy. I bought myself a red hat and a porsche to match. As I approach sixty-two I am thinking I am getting blue. I have to get a grip on all this and put it all in perspective. After taking care of mother in her end of life, I know that I am not one of the old, old women. However, I know that I am not a young, young woman either. I thought the mid-life crisis was supposed to be at 40, why am I delayed in this response?
In 1790, half of Americans were under age 16. It did not double till roughly 1990 when the median age reached 33. By 2050, it will be over 40 to even 50. In 1850, a newborn white baby girl could expect to live to age 40- a boy to age 38. Today a girl can expect to live to 79- a boy to age 73. The fastest growing age segment is 80+ where over half are women. [http://www.efmoody.com/longterm/lifespan.html] I have read that today the new sixty is the old fifty. I may be a new sixty but I sure feel like an old fifty.
Each experience and person that I know helps me to process through a stage in life. I remember Mark's grandmother, Anna, telling me at age 80 something: "I was really surprised when I had my 80th birthday. I never expected to live this long." Anna is now an empowering 90 year old that has zest and humor. I have to admit until taking care of my mother, I was in denial about my mortality and my aging. It is getting harder and harder to live in denial as time is constantly carrying me into the future that now has a clearer view of the ending than ever before in my life. I think in my mind up until my sixtieth birthday, I thought that I was going to live forever.
Well since I can't do anything to turn back the hands of time, I guess I am going to have to develop an attitude. My companion through out my life has been a sense of humor. It is time to bring that companion forward with me as I look at the rest of my journey.
Life is short so make fun of it. Or, I am never going to get out of this world alive.
Maybe I will cope by being metaphysical. Reincarnation anyone?
Morning Muse
Myriam Maytorena
moments in the morning with my friends
please feel free to share with your friends.
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posted by Myriam Maytorena | 10:40 AM
6 Comments:
I am so with you, my firend. Only yesterday I was thirty something and life was grand. This morning I woke up, went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror and had to stare in confusion for a few seconds trying to figure out who that old broad was staring back at me. Inside my mind, I have matured, but certainly not aged. My thoughts and feelings are much the same as they were when I thirty, but this body, this face? What the hell happened?
Twenty years ago I asked the doctor what was the best way to commit a quick suicide and was told to shoot myself under the left breast, it would blow my heart out. If I tried that now, I'd only wind up in a wheelchair, because the only thing under my left breast now is my kneecap!
Things are now located in places I know damn good and well they were never meant to be located. My arms have gotten so short, I can at last see the ends of my fingers, but nothing past that.
My waist has disappeared somewhere beneath my boobs, and my hind end now resembles nothing so much as the northbound end of a south bound mule.
And my hair? I used to have a thick, luxurious mane of golden brown hair, now I have a thin covering of would be iron gray. I say would be, because as long as Loreal stays in business, this hair stays light brown.
I, too, used to don makeup every morning, now I think it is tantamount to buying oats for a dead horse.
I remember a time in the not too distant past when sex was fun, now I can't for the life of me recall what all the fuss was about.
And the worst insult of all, Depends are beginning to be my best friend!
Have a great day!
Keep writing,
Linda
Hi Myriam,
I surely enjoyed reading your article today. You have great wit and charm, only age could give us that charm.
Linda, you're a hoot.
Thanks ladies for brightening my day.
Oh, man, can I relate to this. I swear, I am only 30, but my knees forgot to listen to my brain.
As for the hair? I'm with Linda on the L'Oreal thing! Only difference is that for years I dyed it the same mouse brown I'd always had with me--and hated. Finally, one day (after a dream) I decided to try it in red. Well, I don't usually argue with God, but this time I win. He did make a mistake! I should have been born a redhead!
Now as far as the scale goes, why the heck do they need that info. on a drivers' license. And have you EVER known a woman who told the truth on it? They can look at the hair color, maybe even the age, and probably swallow it, but when my drivers' license says 150 pounds...well, you can just imagine the looks I get from those examiners! Hey, if they EVER DARE ASK ME ABOUT IT, they are going to get an honest answer. "That's what it was the first time I filled it out!"
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