Well, this weekend I got a snootful of reminders that I’m no spring chicken any longer. I went to a get together for a family member home from Iraq, but who is shipping out again today for another 7 months. It was a huge gathering of family and friends. The place was alive with young folks—married and significant other couples, single friends, and most noticeably babies. The women sat in clusters, often divided by age, and the men did the same. The males over 40 stood around cars and trucks, sipped their beers encased in coolies, and told stories (some true and some heavily embellished) while those under 30 hit the volleyball court in the yard. (Great house and yard for entertaining). I couldn’t get over the sheer explosive power of those youthful bodies. To watch them spike, and serve, and ditch themselves to make a save, was incredible. If she had been there with me, Gloria Steinem would have to renege on her bold statements that women can do everything a man can do. It just ain’t so.
The following day I attended a baby shower. This time there were no men present so my observations were strictly of females. Again, everyone tended to divide up into generations. I’d say a quarter of the women were pregnant, and another quarter holding babies. Talk about intimidation. Even those with three-week-old babies had flat bellies and the girls (I heard that expression for breasts on Oprah) were up high where they are supposed to be, full, and firm, and perky. They don’t make a miracle bra that can perform that kind of miracle. It truly is the miracle of youth. I shifted my blouse up because advanced cleavage doesn’t appear the same as the cleavage on a 25 year old. The more experienced cleavage resembles crepe paper. Then I smoothed my blouse over my abdomen, shuddering at the thought that I looked almost as pregnant as the mother-to-be who was opening her gifts. And the skin . . . Not only can you not find any creases, wrinkles, or lines, you can’t find a single pore in their complexions. I looked at their hands and noticed how smooth and taught the flesh was. I pinched the top of my hand and the ridge I created stayed there for the next five minutes. Elasticity has vanished.
When did all this happen to me? Obviously when I wasn’t watching. I’m hoping that all these observations and noticings will wriggle their way into my writing. That is if I can remember them.
PS I’m late posting because 1. I forgot (even though I remembered yesterday at one point )
2. I slept late and I’m still looking forward to an afternoon nap.
7 comments:
Well I look in the mirror
- what the hell happened
to me?
Whatever I had has gone away
I'm not the young kid that I used to be
So I push the hair back out of my face
That's O.K., I knew this would happen
But I was hopin' not today
-John Mellencamp
Kinda says it all for me. I tore up some old carpeting last weekend and I still can't bend at the knees...
Me and my "girls" are with ya, Lynn.
My moment of truth slaps me every single day at the law firm, where many of my "bosses" are young enough to be my offspring. Hell, even their parents are younger than I am.
As for putting it in my books, why do you think I write about a middle-aged fat woman, it's all I can remember being at this point. :)
Jeez, Lynn, how depressing!
You know what I find funny is the way young folk look kind of nervous when they see me doing anything computer-related. They just sort of *hover,* fingers itching to wrest the keyboard away from me.
It's not that I'm particularly incompetent, it's that computer illiteracy is supposed to go with being someone my age.
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Lynn, Let me see. Joe told me you were 31. If you're that upset about your age now, what's going to happen to you when you're on the other side of 40?
Sorry, but I come from a long line of women who go into their senior years kicking and screaming.
It must work because people always comment on what beautiful skin my mom has and how they can't believe her real age. My grandmother underwent complicated surgery because she easily convinced the Dr. she was ten years younger. She was an attractive, beautiful woman up until the day she left this Earth.
Let's hope I have their genes...
Girls, if you aren't close to menopause yet, you don't know what's going to hit you! Enjoy it while you've got 'it' [insert your own definition of 'it' here]. LOL
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