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SHE AIN'T WHAT SHE USED TO BE 11 April 2006
For some reason, perhaps because I left Blood Source and went meandering through Cost Plus looking for a pepper grinder, I felt a little weak when I got home, very unusual for me. I decided to just sit down for a bit in my recliner and maybe get caught up on one of the programs that got recorded while I was in San Francisco and give my blood a little chance to rebuild.
I'm sure everyone has a certain mental age and a physical age. Like my mother, I'm really about 35 years old--I don't know where this 63 year old skin came from. In my mind, I still do all the things I did when I was 35, and it bothers me that I can't do them as easily as I did then. When Lynn was here, she was very worried about the crow's feet around her eyes, and had lots of bottles and potions and lotions and creams to deal with them. I never have used creams or lotions. I don't need them. My eyes are just fine. Aren't they?
So where did these old eyes come from? What's with all the wrinkles and lines around my 35 year old eyes? It looks like a flock of crows have been marching around on my face at night while I've been sleeping. I don't mind the wrinkles and lines--I've earned them. But until I used the close up lense on the camera, I never realized exactly how age-creased they had become (that's one of the perks of being blind without your glasses!)
Where did all this grey come from? That's not my hair, it's my grandmother's hair! It's still thick and full and retains its natural curly/waviness. I still like my hair. But when did it get to be so grey?
One of the perks of growing older is that as your body begins to age, so does your eyesight, so unless you take a close up lens to various parts of your body, you remain blissfully unaware of just how you have changed. Just what I didn't need after all this close-up examination of my rapidly deteriorating body were a couple of notes in response to an entry in Zoot's TV Addict Blog about the recent episode of Amazing Race, where the older couple had done well. Pamela wrote, "Also Fran and Barry? Old people annoy me ok? I mean...GOD." Alana contributes, "Fran and Barry need to go. I had high hopes for them in the beginning because they were all cute and old and ready to take on the youngins, but.........they need to stop whining already." I guess I'll just work on being "cute" and try not to worry about it. Either that or I'll take a page from Doug's book and remain eternally young.
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PHOTOS OF THE DAY
The cheek may be wrinkled, but it still makes a good
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3/23/06
I had just come home from Blood Source, where I deposited
another pint of blood (give or take a bit...the woman with me left to go answer the phone
and came back quickly, saying whoa! as she took this very full bag of blood off
of the scale. I had the mental image of the bag splitting because it was too full.).
I happened to glance down at the skin on my arm and didn't
recognize it. Whose old skin was this? Where was that elasticity that came
with all the blubber that I carry all over my body? Where was that smooth skin that
I remember from the last time I looked that closely at my skin (probably 20 years
ago!). I twisted my arm this way and that, marveling at the patterns the skin
made...and thinking that with a little PhotoShop help, it might make a good background for
a month of journals some day.
Age
is a funny thing.
I look
in the mirror each morning when I brush my hair and it looks as brown as it always
have...maybe a hint of grey, but certainly not as much as my mother has.
Then
there's that dry, flaky skin on my legs that I was aware of. I mentioned it
to my doctor one time, because it's discolored as well as dry and flaky. I don't
remember his exact response, but "your age" was a phrase that was used at the
time, as he kind of shrugged his shoulders and nodded as if he was quite well aware of the
syndrome.
And
finally there are the ugly feet. They've never been beautiful. The combination
of weight and going barefoot leaves the heels calloused and that dry and flaky skin from
my legs extends down to the bottoms of my feet as well. When I was thinner, a
couple of years ago (remember then?) and could actually reach them, I made a
concerted effort to keep them creamed and sandpapered and they actually looked fairly
decent, as long as I didn't go walking barefoot.
