This week I turn 62. I don’t feel 62.
Like when I look in the mirror and see that my neck isn’t anymore. I mean, there’s no neck there. It isn’t. It has ceased to exist.
And then there are the chin hairs. And all of the extra skin where there used to be just two eyelids and two eyebrows. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to open up my eyes because of all of the several folds of skin.
There’s also extra skin hanging around from the upper arms, especially noticeable if I lift my arms up above shoulder level. Thank goodness, I don’t have to walk around with my arms raised up.
Last week, when I asked the dermatologist about several worrisome spots, he said they were “wisdom spots.” Yep, those are what most of us call “age spots.” Then, he had the audacity to use my skin to show the visiting intern what happens to skin and elasticity as people age. There’s nothing quite like being a show-and-tell demonstration for the aging process.
Certainly less visible but just as indicative of aging are the inner signs – the aches and pains, the weak knees and weak hips, and even more.
I told one doctor about a burning pain in the area between my shoulders. He responded, “Do you see the arthritis in your fingers and how crooked your fingers are? Well, that’s the way your spine is also.”
But I’m not complaining. I’m just sharing the process.
In fact, I would never complain about growing old.
My brother Rod didn’t get that opportunity.
~ ~ ~