The Real Truth About Aging . . .
“Age is not a particularly interesting subject. Anyone can get old. All you have to do is live long enough.” –Groucho Marx
The real truth about aging is wrinkles on the forehead where once the terrain was smooth; unsightly age spots on a hitherto unblemished complexion; a spidery web of veins on formerly flawless skin.
The real truth about aging is that if one is so inclined, it is important, nay, mandatory, to have your dermatologist on speed dial. Next to the handy dandy number that indicates your plastic surgeon\’s twenty-four-hour phone line.
The real truth about aging is the self-knowledge that you can get married; get divorced; have kids; survive their terrible two\’s and their terrible teens; watch a parent die, and still find yourself perched on the edge of a whole new and different adventure.
The real truth about aging is the confidence that no matter what curve ball life throws you, you can smash it out of the park. Because you\’ve looked death in the face; you\’ve teetered on the brink and, yet you\’ve lived to tell the story. And nothing but the whole story.
Twas\’ the day before Thanksgiving. . .
A few days before Thanksgiving, I took a Bart train from San Francisco to the suburb of Pleasanton. It was one of those mornings that signal Thanksgiving is near-a cloudless sky, temperatures bracing enough to warrant diving into the coat closet to locate a scarf and gloves, and the sight of fallen leaves swirling in a neighborhood park as I walked to the Bart station. A billboard loomed above me, advertising a turkey dinner for only $39.99 at Marie Callender\’s.
I love the week leading up to Thanksgiving because of the anticipation of my family coming together again. I love the reminders on T.V., on radio and on social media to be grateful for what you have and hold because it allows me a moment to close my eyes and thank the Universe that my house echoes with laughter and joy again.