Wednesday, January 19, 2011


Sometimes I'm shocked when I look in the mirror. I expect to see a young, somewhat attractive woman and instead there's this old gal staring back at me that I barely recognize. The face is familiar, I recognize the eyes a little, and the mouth, but the skin is totally not mine and those lines and blotches - how did that happen?

I've come to the conclusion that at the age of 50 things begin to go downhill in the physical attribute department. The skin slowly goes south, the complexion color changes, the lines form - they're subtle and slow changes but they accumulate after a few years and by now I'm really beginning to see the difference.

Of course photos are especially telling. For so many years I never noticed the difference in my photos and had to guess when they were taken by my hair style or clothes. (Certain clues usually jump out at me, like shoulder pads in the '80s.) But now, when I see a photo that was taken only ten years ago I'm aghast! Wow! Look how young I look! It's shocking.

And then there's the other telling experience - running into an old friend that I haven't seen in a long time. I walk away thinking "Boy - they've really aged......hmmm.......wonder if they're saying the same thing about me......".

Ah yes - the face in the mirror. At the end of the day I smile at her because she's still there. I'll take the wrinkles and the age spots because honestly, they mean I've survived. The alternative is to be like Marilyn Monroe, forever young in our minds, but a sad, short life. I choose the face in the mirror.


Kathleen said... too. Every line, every stretch mark, every wrinkle is proof that there is experience in my life...and with that, I HOPE, a wee bit of wisdom.
By the way, I think you're still looking very good!

firstSTREET said...

Very introspective post, thank you for sharing. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder!