Gawd, I feel old this week!! It all started with the normal stuff - achy knees, dry, patchy skin, those gray roots sneaking out around my part, etc. The Big Guy and I have been discussing retirement issues frequently as he has already given his notice, however, he is dawdling a bit. The conversation is mostly with himself. I just listen. He’s had a few “old person” medical issues over the last year or two and those discussions also take up a fair amount of our time.
A few days ago, I spent the better part of a day trying to clean my eyelashes of those little dry flakes one often has in the morning. That was, until I realized there were no flakes there, some of my eyelashes are turning white!!! I stopped trying to remove them and bought a new tube of mascara!
I’ve been stymied by the mystery of my white eyebrows for years. My hair has a relatively small amount of gray for my age. I think. I base this opinion on my roots as they begin to grow out. I haven’t gone natural in years although I did let it grow out a little within the past year! Mostly just to see what color it really is! About five years ago, I began to notice occasional white hairs in my brows. The Big Guy and his brother are both silver gray (The Big Guy has actually reached white) and have been graying since their early twenties. Neither of them have any gray or white hairs in the brow area. My female friends also claim not to have white hairs in their brows (but I do wonder about their degree of honesty when it comes to these things!) I, of course, initially plucked those hairs. As they became more pervasive, I learned to accept them. I don’t use a lot of makeup and tend not to use an eyebrow pencil but, on occasion, have touched them up when making up.
Well, I took those white lashes and brows right out to visit with my newest great-godchild later in the week. (That generation is growing WAY too fast!!!) The old knees didn’t go up steps well while carrying a tiny baby. I made a mental note that my babysitting days there will have to use a changing pad on the floor as I can’t run up and down to the changing table. (That’s assuming I can get up and down off the floor these days!)
One of the on-line forums I enjoy had a posting today criticizing the input of some trolls and one poster referred to some of them as “those women in their 50s, like my mom, with nothing better to do than criticize!” Are there age limits to these general interest forums?
Then, as other women my age do, I sat down to read for relaxation's sake. Again, I was hit by a blow from the old age fairy! (We’re not even going where those reading glass comments might lead!!) In Dying for Chocolate by Diane Mott Davidson, the author has the heroine take a job as a live-in personal cook for a couple “in their early 50s.” She goes on to describe them in terms associated with the elderly. She describes the wife as arthritic and walking with a cane and being a bit rambling in her conversations. The husband is described as tall with notable white hair and with a flaky personality inferred to be related to both his age and early retirement status. To quote my husband, The Big Guy, “I resemble that remark!” I was a little offended by the first references to this couple and their “aged” status. Then it dawned on me, the mental image I had of the man was that of my husband’s best friend! As I hobbled into the kitchen on a stiff knee to get a fresh glass of iced tea, I thought of the female half of that couple. Indeed, I DO resemble that remark!!
They say you’re as old as you feel. Well, today, I feel ANCIENT !!!! (Of course, I've been running around like a maniac prepping for this vacation. Lack of sleep could be a contributing factor.)