I am no longer what could truthfully be termed young. The evidence has been mounting for quite some time now and has become increasingly difficult to ignore.
For example: Gray hairs are much more plentiful than previously in my mop of once nicely brown tresses. My first steps out of bed each morning have become a hobble to the bathroom. Opening a jar or turning a steering wheel occasionally causes breath-takingly sharp pains in the joints of my hands. And, I now frequently have to move a book farther from my face in order to get the words into focus, a very annoying development! I can no longer ignore all of these signs clearly indicating that age is creeping upon me at a steady pace.
Don't get me wrong, there are wonderful things about growing older. I'm much more comfortable in my own skin than when I was a mere 20-ish. I stress less over the small stuff. I understand my own strengths and weakness more clearly and thus am better equipped to deal with the stuff that happens in life. Twenty-four plus years of marriage to the same guy has too many benefits to list in this post, but suffice to say that it's a very good thing. There's definitely an upside to it all.
I was raised by a father who clearly enjoyed the process of growing older. Age has never bothered him and although my mom has been mostly silent on the issue, she seems to feel much the same; no lamenting the loss of youth and the effects of advancing years. My parents passed that attitude on to me. Thus, I have never had any problem telling others my age and birthdays ending in zero don't dismay me in the least.
However, there is one side effect of having a substantial number of years under my belt that truly drives me nuts! It's the horrific lack of memory!!! If you've given birth, you've experienced it during pregnancy and know what I'm talking about. However, I can no longer blame this sad malady on gestation and, worse, I can't even comfort myself by pretending that it's going to get better after the delivery! It's here to stay along with all the drawbacks that come with chronic forgetfulness!!! Thank heaven for forgiving family and friends!
I've tried herbal remedies purported to boost memory, but forget to take them much too often to ever ascertain whether or not they are at all helpful. I write notes to myself as reminders of things and then promptly lose them never to be seen again (okay, I do eventually find them, long after they are no longer relevant!) And I write appointments on my calendar that I forget to look at. There are myriad ways that this lack of memory negatively affects my little world and all of them are embarrassing and stressful!
I'm truly quite comfortable with most of the signs of my not-too-far distant old age. Grey hairs? Bring 'em on! Slower pace? I'm ready! Hairier self? I've got good tweezers (though, sadly, no
cilia forceps. I didn't win
InkMom's contest!). Failing vision? My glasses are stylin! It's all good except that I'm more forgetful than a baby whose yet to develop that whole object permanence thing!
I don't have anything profound or particularly interesting to say about the whole issue, just aaaarrrrgghhh!
