Last night I was watching one of those shows which feature before and after stories of plastic surgery patients. I was glued to the set as I witnessed three people go through physical transformations via the wonderful world of medical science.
All of the surgeries were completely elective and frankly, I didn't think any of the people who had their bodies altered really needed it.
That's just my opinion though. The truth is, by the end of the show, I was beginning to wonder if I might benefit from a few nips and tucks myself. Shoot! For several thousand dollars and a few hours of my time (not counting recovery, of course) I could look ten years younger. It's that simple.
It wasn't so long ago that I would not have considered such a silly idea. I look young. I act young. I AM young! That's been my story and I've stuck to it.
Even though I am a grandmother five times over, I've been able to live happily comfortable in my little world of denial. I love the looks of surprise I get when people find out I have five grandchildren. I especially enjoy watching people nearly faint when I tell them my oldest daughter is 30 years old.
Yep. It's a beautiful thing.
So, naturally, it bothers me that lately, those surprised reactions are becoming fewer and farther between. It's true, the woman looking back at me in the mirror is starting to show some age and I realize I will soon be forced to make that all important decision.
Will I grow old gracefully, or will I fight it every step of the way?
On one hand, I am leaning towards fighting it. On the other, I'm don't think I am quite ready to pull my head out of the sand and admit that not only is the skin on my face slowly working it's way down to my chin line, but my upper arms are betraying me as well. Just this past weekend I was appalled to notice that it has taken on a life of it's own and now insists on waving at will whenever I raise my hands. And my neck? We won't even go there. Suffice to say I started buying clothing that buttons up under my chin a year or so ago.
In a perfect world, I suppose none of us would ever show our age. Unfortunately, the world is not perfect and neither is this body of mine.
I'd love to think I could maintain a youthful appearance right up to the time I leave this earth (sometime after my 100th birthday) but I'm not quite to the point where I am willing to pay a years wages to accomplish that dream.
So for now, I will keep doing what I've been doing for the last 48 years. I will eat well (with the possible exception of the occasional hot fudge cake) exercise regularly (as in climbing the stairs to get to my computer every morning) and I will keep my head buried in the proverbial sand.
Who's to say, after all, that the "Fountain of Youth" won't someday be discovered right here where I rest, in the beautiful state of denial!
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