Most of the time I’m okay with this aging thing and grateful that I can still “do what I’m doing.” And that the HTOH (Head of the Household) thinks I’m beautiful. (We all know that beauty is in the eye of the beholder…)
But then I try to do something “age inappropriate.” My mind says “yes, yes, yes, go for it” and the next day my body goes, “hah, hah, hah, told you so.” Or I wake after one of those semi-sleepless nights that come with aging and start the day tired. But no backache as I never lay in one position long enough to get stiff.
Now, I love sleeping and oh bliss, there are the nights that I sleep well, barely moving and wake up refreshed. (Even Mikhail B., the Lhasa that normally favors Steve because I’m too restless, had cuddled up.) But, and there’s always a but, my arthritic back complains and tells me to hurry up and please go for a walk and GET MOVING. Then, I make the mistake of looking in the mirror to be confronted with puffed up sleepy eyes versus black rings and little sleep.
As I sit pondering these tradeoffs that come with aging, a truly funny and uplifting memory came to mind. I was cruising down PC Parkway in my Yellow Submarine with the top down, heavily camouflaged, as in Audrey Hepburn sunglasses to hide the wrinkles and pink baseball hat pulled waaay over my forehead to hide the silver hair (please note, it’s silver, not grey.) Came a voice from a thirty something in a truck one lane over, “Hey babe, you make that car look good!”
I’ll take it, the camouflage obviously worked! So I smiled and waved and accelerated before the poor man could face reality.