Finish this sentence: “When I look in the mirror, I . . . “
I looked in the mirror today and I wondered who that woman was that was staring back at me! She couldn’t be me…say it isn’t so!
When did my long, silky auburn tresses become short, wiry silver corkscrews?
When did I get a double chin and what the hell are those tentacle-like follicles growing out of them?
When did my breasts and rear-end stop defying gravity?
When did my soft, creamy skin, sprinkled with freckles start requiring lavish amounts of moisturizer and spot erasers?
When did my once shapely legs start sporting those hideous blue veins and flabby, dimpled thighs?
I started brushing my dentures and thought about other things that have changed with age.
When did I stop saying “That’s cool, Dude!” and start saying “That’s nice, dear?”
When did I give up those sexy two-inch heels for sensible sneakers with a Dr. Scholl’s insert stuffed inside?
When did I give up driving racy sports cars, dressed to kill and looking for action? Now I pedal around my neighborhood on my three speed bike, dressed from head to toe in protective gear, looking for my way home.
When did people stop telling me that a new hairstyle made me look more mature and start exclaiming that I look younger with the new do? And when someone tells me that “60 is the new 50”, I want to scream!
When did something I used to do all day long now take me all day to do? And, when the hell did I start shrinking?
When did little one’s stop calling me “Mommy” and start yelling “Grandma”?
“WAIT A MINUTE!”, I thought, “I happen to love being a Grandma!”
I stepped away from the mirror and sat on the edge of my bed. I started thinking about the difference between “getting old” and “growing older”.
Sure, my body and lifestyle have changed with age. But, I have my health, a loving family and a great guy to spend my “golden years” with. Over the years, I have traded cockiness for wisdom, day to day stress for peace of mind and demanding jobs for the freedom to experience new adventures that I could only dream about while chasing a career.
So, what the hell was I complaining about?
Deciding that I was not “getting old”, but only growing older, I smiled and got off the bed, headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice…laced with Metamucil.