I really wanted to say that 2008 was the year that I grew old, but I know that 43 is not really “old.” Only those older than I are going to say that it’s still young, though! Going into 2008, I still had a pretty good foothold on the top of Age Mountain. Life was going along pretty well - until I took my eight year old shopping. My precious daughter pointed out that the reason that I don’t look like those girls on the posters in the same clothes is because they’re thinner and…..younger! Soon after, my six year old told me that I should get some of that stuff that they talk about on TV that “gets the commas off of your face.” (Those “commas” are also known as my well-earned smile lines!)
For all of my childhood and adulthood, I have always loved the lines on my mom’s hands. I suppose that I just love her hands. I love for her to hold my hand, rub my head, rub my back, just love on me with her beautiful hands. In fact, I love her hands so much that I’ve always wanted to have them. I’ve looked longingly at my own hands for signs of those beautiful veins that stick up in her hand. In 2008, I discovered that my hands are not going to be like my momma’s hands; I have major wrinkly hands instead!
One day this Fall, I was driving around Breckenridge and noticed that I was having a difficult time reading signs both in and out of the car. I would have to ask the children what the words were on the medicine bottle. When I’d read my Bible, no matter how much light I could get on the page, there were times that I just COULDN’T read the tiny words! I immediately headed to the eye doctor, certain that I was losing my vision and had developed high blood pressure or diabetes. After a thorough examine, I was given the less-than-exciting news that I’m old. Bifocals were no longer my future; they were my present! Now, I always wondered why “old” people wore such large glasses. Mine, when I didn’t wear contacts, were the cutest little black rectangular glasses, quite fashionable. I’ve joined the club. The secret is that bifocals won’t go in those tiny little glasses! For several weeks, I walked around asking complete strangers if they thought I had “old lady” glasses! Quite annoying, I’m sure!
As if all of these things weren’t enough, I began to have some medical “situations” which led me to my doctor for bloodwork. After all of my testing was completed, it was determined that I was the perfect candidate for hormone replacement therapy! Hormone replacement therapy? You’ve got to be freakin’ kidding me!
Determined to prove to the world that I AM NOT OLD, I actually went out on New Year’s Eve to a real party! It was the first time that Rowland and I had been out on New Year’s since 1996!!! We actually stayed at the party until 12:30 and weren’t in bed until 1:30. I guess my experiment back-fired, though. As we crawled out of bed the next morning, we both determined that we were too old for New Year’s Eve parties. In fact, we committed to staying home from now on and watching the ball drop in New York (11:00 our time) while lying in bed, kissing each other, turning out the light, and going to sleep.
So much for my firm foothold on the top of Age Mountain!!!















