It's Official - I'm accepting that I'm old!

Whoever said, "growing old ain't for sissies," said a mouthful.  I'm constantly amazed at the changes in my body... changes that seem to happen over night.  One day I had a smooth, wrinkle-free throat, and during the night, something or someone broke into my bedroom and stole whatever it was that held up the skin.  I don't want to say I could compete with a turkey for having the biggest waddle, but now I have something else to complain about other than what happened to the muscle and fat in my arms that prevented me from developing bat wings?   Honestly, I could hurt someone on a windy day.

I stopped smoking in 1979  because I didn't like the "pleated lips" look that older women were sporting.  I guess I should have quit a lot earlier.  And what happened to my eyelashes?  I used to have long, thick ones.  When I look in my magnifying mirror now, I see over half of them are gone.  I've developed male-pattern baldness of the lids.  But, I guess it doesn't matter since my cataracts pretty much preclude me from wearing mascara anymore.  And forget eye liner.  A thin dark line looks pretty stupid in the middle of your eyelid.

For years, I made fun of my mother, maybe not aloud, but I silently giggled at the silly things she tied or stuck on the radio antenna of her car.  I didn't get it then, but I do now. But, I absolutely refuse to use her method of locating her car in a crowded lot, however I will admit that I've found the panic button on my key chain very instrumental in leading to me to the right row at Walmart.  There is nothing more frustrating and downright scary than standing amongst a hundred cars and having no idea where you parked.  I remember that same feeling when I got separated from my Mommy in a big store. Rather than seek out a helpful clerk and have them page my mother over the loudspeaker, now I just follow the security alarm.  Works every time.  :)

I'm starting to get medicare information from every carrier around.  Like I needed one more thing to muddle through.  Plan A, Plan B, drugs, hospitalization...I'm so confused.   I think turning sixty-five might be the hardest birthday yet.  I'm trying to grow old gracefully, but mother nature is having no part of it.  Yes, everything you've heard about growing old is true, except that part about fine wine.  Gimme a break.  Someone should have written a manual to prepare a person for the shock!

Oh, did I forget to mention that what happens to your upper arms eventually happens to the other half?  Jello has nothing on me when it comes to wiggling. The question I want to ask is why don't men suffer as much when they age?  We've already been cheated by being the ones to birth the children, have periods, go through menopause... so tell me how come men grow more distinguished with age while women just lose their sex appeal and turn into a mound of loose skin?