Growing old is like being increasingly punished for a crime you didn't commit. Anthony Powell
The Incredible Shrinking Woman
As some of you know I'm kind of a shrimp. It's always a surprise to me when I'm in a photo pictured beside my husband, sons and/or grandkids. Well, the situation has deteriorated further, I've lost and inch and a half in height in the last decade. Totally unfair to those of us who are physically challenged. Sadly this is not unusual for women of a certain age. It is definitely not your imagination that your grandmother gets smaller every year. Soon I figure I'll be able to fit into the front a shopping cart. Oh the indignity.
The Semi Bionic Woman
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| I'm taller than the 10 and 6 years old great nephews |
Besides shrinking there are other unwelcome surprises, for example aches and pains. Aging can hurt. I had a hip replacement which was no fun, then currently I have a pinched nerve in my neck. When I complained to my physical therapist, "this has never happened to me before!" she answered "how often have you been in your mid seventies?"
Energy Level Stagnation
Of which brings up an unpopular topic: tiredness. Hate to admit it but I was of the near ADD category and could out sprint people half my age. But with the occasional mad dash for an almost missed ferry [see the last post] I rarely run unless forced to. This is concerning because before my normal gate was a semi trot. Don't want to any more.
You're only young once but you can be immature forever. Germaine Greer
Fashion Challenged
Some bikers tend to go for the Harley look, sporting a pony tail, beer belly, chains, tats, logos, and jean jackets. Sometimes those of us of a certain age can sport a jean packet too, minus the beer belly, chains and the tats. Fashions change but somethings are too good to give up. Jeans and jean jackets, ah.
One of my friends is Japanese and years ago she pointed this out to me and I heartily chuckled. Darn if she isn't mostly correct. White or grey hair, pale, pale skin and a uniform of clothes to try to capture some youthful look. This is an observation, not a criticism. While I have retained my blondish hair, the truth is it's mostly grey.
Wait, Weight
Though I am within a few pounds of what I always weigh, I have the figure of a toddler without the enormous thighs: a small pot belly, folds in my skin, and an inability to run as swiftly as I used to. I believed women who had pot bellies had let themselves go, over indulgences etc. Guess what, except for the people who have various surgeries to retain an hour glass figure the aging process includes fat accumulation in the midsection. Yes and I'm active! I walk at least 7 or 8 miles a week. Is it my fault that I have a bigger waist? Only the scam artists believe so and want to guilt trip you into buying their products. The science is not behind it. Still, it's not a thrilling prospect to resemble a toddler.
Skin Deep
I vividly remember my mother saying to me after I complained about my wrinkles when I was in my fifties, "go look in the mirror", I went to the nearest mirror, came back on the phone and said, "okay, what?" Mom answered, "it's all downhill from here." Funny. But she was correct, the wrinkles plotted against me. So I tried every anti wrinkle product on this continent to no avail. Useless and now the wrinkles are planning another take over. Will I do corrective surgery? The truth is I'm violently opposed to voluntary pain, hence no surgery that's not necessary for me. Ouch with elective plastic surgery and why? To look younger? Really, why bother. I haven't noticed any paparazzi hanging about and no one is arranging a photo shoot for me. As my blessed grandmother used to say, "I earned every one of these wrinkles." Indeed, so have I.
Day Dream Believer
One of the things I never intend to give up is being a day and night dreamer. I'm also one who records those dreams. In all of my dreams I'm looking about 45 years old, spunky, fierce and out spoken. Then I awaken and reality hits and I look in the mirror. Oh, oh--- no more delusion. Starting me back is a small blondish older woman who has quite an attitude and looks very much like her mother. This is the shock of aging. One day you're looking at your hand being concerned about a bit of arthritis and then it seems like in no time you're seeing that same hand that incredibly resembles your long dead grandmother's hands. Then my nose is bigger and as is my waist. I don't lie about my age or weight but I do about my height. It's such a shock that one shrinks as we age. Who knew? Everyone apparently. I was the oblivious one. Everyone who has an elderly relative might notice in pictures from the past that the relative then was taller. I'm amazed when I see pictures of myself with my family that I'm now the smallest member. So what. Napoleon was a shrimp.
susansmagicfeather 2022 Susan R. Grout
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