Writers' Pantry #49. There are days we take assessment of who we have become, and it is often a humbling experience. I'll share my journey to humility this bleak, Sunday afternoon, and admit my self-deprecating humor may be just a bit exaggerated.
Submitted to Poets & Storytellers United, December 6, 2020
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In youth, while we revere our elders, smugly most of us think to ourselves we’ll look and act much younger when we reach that age. But, in subtle and insidious ways, time marches on. I had always prided myself on having a small waist for my ample body, and I accented it with belts. Middle age came along, my waist thickened, and belts were uncomfortable so they went by the wayside. I soon tired of flirty skirts and business suits, and opted to wear pants. No more worrying about sitting properly and crossing my legs carefully. In no time I discovered elastic waists were wonderful things, and it seemed less important (if not impossible) to hold my stomach in.
Being blessed with small eyes, for years I wore artificial eyelashes to make my eyes appear larger. Soon my eyelids sagged to the point the artificial lashes appeared to be slings, so I abandoned that habit. I had always worn bras that gave me a perky, pointy profile, but soon I could find no man-made spandex strong enough to fight the slow droop of age. I opted for something comfortable that contained my breasts and gently lifted them to the point I didn’t step on them.
Speaking of steps, middle age blessed me with generalized arthritis. It seemed my feet came to feel like bags of miscellaneous bones. Today I'm lost without my Easy Spirit shoes. Their arch support, sensible soles and laces gather up the miscellaneous bones, and guarantee I feel grounded. Gone are the sexy pumps and delicate sandals, gone are the belts, gone are the flirty skirts and business suits, gone are the perky breasts, gone are the artificial lashes. I peer into the mirror and see exactly the same elderly woman I vowed I wouldn’t become. Life has a way of having the last laugh. It's called humility.
I can relate to this so much! It just sneaks up until one day we look in the mirror and, as you say, there's the elderly woman we thought was our mother!
ReplyDeleteBev, I relate to the loss of perkiness, tinyness, cuteness all of it! However, the alternative is unthinkable so I will muddle along singin' your song side by side.
ReplyDeleteYou still look perky, tiny and cute to me! You're such good muddling along company!
DeleteHaha Yes we are slowly falling apart and losing the looks. Although I never had a waist and was never able to wear skirts and pumps but then again I love trousers. What I love about getting older is that I feel confident and know what I like and want. That was quite different when I was young.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely. With the dose of humility comes self-acceptance and wisdom....at least I like to think so!
DeleteAh yes, gravity is getting to us. At least we never wore girdles!
ReplyDeleteOh goodness, I didn't mention them, but I well remember wearing Playtex girdles. They were torture chambers!!
Delete"to the point I didn't step on them" made me laugh. It reminded me of Emma Thompson talking about something in her body brought about by age, and she was funny about it like you. Funny how people view physical attributes differently. I always wished my eyes were smaller because I was teased in school about my large eyes.
ReplyDeleteHa ha ha! Oh, I can identify with so much of this! But to me your face (in your profile photo) is beautiful in its warmth and gentleness as well as the still-pretty features. You look like someone who wouldn't stint on cuddles to grandchildren or hugs for friends. I think there's wisdom in your eyes, too.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your kind comments, Rosemary. There's much truth in my write, but some exaggerated fun too! I feel we all need a chuckle now and again!
Deletei really enjoyed reading this delightful essay. taking a dig at oneself is not easy, but you did it so well with humour and yes, humility. there is so much truth in your words about ageing.
ReplyDeleteThanks. Aging IS a humbling experience that needs to be taken with a good dose of humor!
DeleteThis left me smiling, Bev. All the descriptions are clear, and some of them I can certainly identify with--arthritic agony and difficulty finding the right kind of chest spandex seems to be something we acquire as we grow more vintage.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful piece of writing; humility told with subtle humour! That put a smile on my face too. :-) I echo, "Aging is a humbling experience" and I love your acceptance of this natural process instead of fighting it.
ReplyDeleteI can relate to this too. I have given in to my body and am happy about it. although not keen on the wrinkled stranger that lives in my mirror!
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
A sweet poem... and one that resonates with all ages truly... we do slowly turn into what we swore we would never be! May we all find the kind of grace to accept it, that you describe so well.
ReplyDeleteThere are a bunch of things I'm already given up. High heels were the first to go even though I'm only 5 ft tall (with my toes giving me a boost, that is). Bring on the elastic pants!
ReplyDeleteA loving Grandmother is always beautiful. They are the backbone of families and teach us so much! I love your sense of humor!
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