I never knew what the side of my face looked like at the ripe old age of sixty-one (or was it sixty-two) but when I saw this I was distraught. The chin so plump. The cheeks so full. The hair so drab. What age does to a woman is unforgivable! Unless, of course, you are my granny O’Donnell and take it in stride. I just had to throw that in to make myself feel better because my granny always said: “Age is one of life’s mysteries”. Granny O’Donnell never seemed to mind growing older. Actually, she seemed to embrace it. I wish I knew why.
As for myself, I have reached the abyss but I don’t seem to recognize it. Actually, I don’t know what the hell I am dealing with. I tend to my elder mother and her siblings with the mindset of a twenty-five year old and think: Some day there goes I. But I never think I am there, not really. But pictures do not lie. A camera image has a discerning eye. When I looked at this picture of myself from only four-five years ago I realized I am somewhere between twenty-five and now and time is not going backwards. Dash it! All I can say (with the greatest amount of humor) is what the hell happened. Just a few short years ago I was a young mother full of life and future. Life is still full and exciting but it has less shelve life. And, to add insult to injury all the children have flown the coop!
The picture presented on this post is of myself and my daughter at her wedding to Mr. Hastings. A marriage made in heaven. Both blessed beyond measure but not until their late thirties. May I say here, if you find the person that matches you step for step you are indeed blessed and no matter what age you need to hold on with both hands, hold tight, and be blessed especially if you are cut from the same cloth, so to speak. My daughter is so blessed. But, I digress! What I was talking about was my chin and my cheeks! Oh My God shall I be smacked down or I shall not recover from my profile in this picture. But, then it is what it is and I am what I am. I am internally content with who I am, who I have become, and I have to admit, hands down, I am the most wonderful person I know. I know this sounds rather self-absorbed but then after all these years I have arrive at a good place to be, as a woman, as a person. Even so, I do wish the outside was more reflective of the inside.
My granny O’Donnell told me that age is not something to fear but something to embrace. You know, I think she was dead on. God bless my granny for she was one amazing woman. Born of the south in a time the south was in transition. My grandmother Roxie (quite a name, huh) was a modern woman. Progressive. I loved her more than written words can communicate. She was who I always expired to be. Roxie wrote for the local newspaper. She was a national award-winning journalist. She was someone worth looking up to. She died of breast cancer before my daughters could know her. I am so sorry she was not around to teach my girls about gardening, quilting and the joy of journalistic opinion. Oh, how Roxie could cause ripples. She once told President Truman he was full of shit. And she meant it. We have his letter of apology for his inability to govern to her standards in our possession. Of course, I think she was right, but that is only my opinion.
I am confusing my profile with my granny’s opinion on aging and Truman, perhaps to take focus off my profile!
The thing is this: We age. It is uncontrollable. In no way does this mean I like it!