Young at Heart


My knee caps ache and I have bruises on the inside of my arms.  I wonder why me? Why now? And then I realize I’ve been trying to keep up with our Paralegal at work. I don’t have her education, nor do I have her blonde hair and wear a Size 4.

But (in my defense) I look young for my age, which is a blessing for any middle aged woman.  Most folks guess my milestone birthday last August was a 50th or a 55th.  When I say I’ll be 62 next year they do a double-take and I love that deer-in-the-headlights look.  Although I feel young and look “good for my age” my body tells me something else.

I walk during my lunch hour (she runs) and I carry boxes of copy paper up two flights of stairs because I’ve seen her do it with ease.  I find myself dizzy, dazed and out of breath when I complete this task.  She can work late into the evening and I’m pooped at 4:55 pm.  This woman is amazing!  She’s 29; married three years and pregnant with her first child.  I think dear Lord, what’s the matter with me? Do I need additional B12 and shots of espresso? Must I drink more orange juice and lose another five pounds of body fat?  Shall I sign up for spinning classes; or purchase a yoga mat and learn Pilates? It’s not that I don’t have the desire mind you; I just don’t have the energy. 

Oh me. Oh my.

After I had spent hours Virgo-analyzing all of the above, it dawned on me that I’m 30+years older than she is. And truthfully, I believe my career and sex life peaked at age 28.  She’s in her prime and my prime has somewhat cooled.
Yes, it’s all in our head and we’re as young and desirable as we want to be.  But sometimes we must look into the mirror pass those eyes that sparkle just like they did in our teens, and admit that bodies change and body parts sag.

The saving grace is that the twenty-somethings will age just like the rest of us. And what brings me peace and laughter is the circle will continue and one day they will be the ones with the knees that ache and the skin that bruises easily. 

Must close to drink a glass of warm milk and soak in Epson salts.  I haven’t thrown in the towel yet, and plan on living to 100 just like my Grandma Alma did.