Embrace your 40’s…

Written 31 March 2010


Embrace your 40’s…

and every strange, misplaced, unwelcome and unfriendly black hair that comes along with it!

Listen up you little twits in your twenties, enjoy it while you can! Black hairs; and not the ones you dye black b/c you want to look gothic; are on their way to a pore near you! Oh yes, I’m here to tell you all the ugly little secrets your mom and your best friends and your grandmother will not tell you. Why? Because I like you - even though we’ve never met. And b/c I don’t want my tax dollars paying for your therapy when the black hairs arrive; seemingly out of nowhere.

And don’t ask me why your mother, the woman who gave birth to you, will not-EVER-tell you about these strange, alien-like happenings in your body. The unwelcome, random, black hair is just a glimpse into your future. And the exciting news is the black hairs turn to gray ones. Yes, even there.

It’s like the late-night info-mercials: But wait! There’s more! At the age of 40 I noticed my knees were aching, a lot. I was proudly serving my country in Baghdad, Iraq working in the U.S. Embassy when the aching began. I attributed it to all the marble and concrete I walked on 14 hours a day. Old Age never, not once, came to mind. Grrrrr.

Now my knees hurt so bad I'm looking forward to the Medicare kicking in. Yes, it's years away but you have to have SOMETHING to look forward to or you'll never want to grow old.

When my husband and I got married last September (9/11 if you want to send a card) we were in the elevator of the hotel in Kauai, Hawaii (ok, now I'm just bragging cuz that info was totally not necessary) when I discovered a horrific hair on my jaw-line! Aghast I asked my beloved in an agitated state-of-mind "Dale, WHAT IS THIS?" He said it was a hair! "WHY didn't you tell me"? "Cuz I'm old too and I can't SEE". Really, this is my life.

Sometime last summer I was driving down the road minding my own business when the horseradish I ate in Louisiana 13 years ago re-visited my insides. Well, you tell me! That's what I felt like. I pulled the car over, took the top down, put my foot outside the window and panted like a rabid dog. Then, just like that, it (whatever the 'it' was) was gone.

By the grace of God I did not have a wreck from all the drama going on in my vehicle and made it to The Home Depot. I was on a mission to get some paint. I found the color and gave my instructions to the "Paint Man". Every Home Depot has one! As soon as he was taken care of I immediately got on the phone to my bff, Deborah, and tried to explain to her what had just happened to me. Just seconds into my dramatization (and I really mean that) the Home Depot people turned their heater on 7 gazillion degrees and I began panting. Between pants I told my old friend the horseradish story and all I could get out of her was howling at the moon laughter. Bit*$. I hung up on her. The Paint Man had a perplexed look on his face when I turned around. I grabbed my paint and left.

Deborah has never been really supportive of me getting older. She just laughs a lot whenever I call her to get her "take" on what is going on in my body. Guess I deserve it. I've been laughing at her for years. I just thought her memory would be bad by now and she'd have forgotten. Guess it's just your eyes that go at this time in her life. Oh, and her bladder too. Let's not forget that. What? You've never heard of your bladder giving out on you? It wasn't that "outside the box" thinking that the crazy astronaut lady had about wearing that diaper to Florida. Lots of people over the age of 2 do that and they're not even going to kill anyone. They're just on a regular old road trip. Droopy bladder and all.

There's a lot more to tell you but I don't want anyone jumping off of bridges or anything so I'll let you in on some more secrets next week...like "The Joys of Night Sweats" and other things God does to us to prepare us for the old folks home.