www.geograph.org.uk Writing boldly about my aging process, where few others dare to venture into exposition.
What is real? Only the present moment. Yes, we have our memories and records of past events, but these are nothing compared to the now. However, as we age, the present moment lacks the rewards of our former vitality. We want to live long and healthy lives, but to what end? More and more people are living longer, yet life doesn't offer an unending field of clover.
For me, the days of youth are long gone. Yet, in my mind, I am the same. Well—not quite. Every time I glance down, the wrinkled skin on my hands drags protesting thoughts to my aging body. The wrinkles on my hand hurt too, especially around the creases between my thumb and the back of the hand. At least my mind is still active—writing daily blogs, novel-writing and working on crossword puzzles with my husband.
Those hands were once the subject of a beautiful photograph used in an exhibition. I guess the shape is the same—maybe a little broader. I can't wear my wedding ring any more. Instead, I wear a signet-style ring made from an Australian ruby set in 18ct gold. The only trouble with that is I commissioned the ring to be made out the melted gold from two former wedding bands and my first husband gave me the ruby he bought from the gem fields of Emerald, Queensland in Australia. My present husband doesn't comment. We've agreed that the ring takes the place of my wedding band.
What is real? Only the present moment. Yes, we have our memories and records of past events, but these are nothing compared to the now. However, as we age, the present moment lacks the rewards of our former vitality. We want to live long and healthy lives, but to what end? More and more people are living longer, yet life doesn't offer an unending field of clover.
For me, the days of youth are long gone. Yet, in my mind, I am the same. Well—not quite. Every time I glance down, the wrinkled skin on my hands drags protesting thoughts to my aging body. The wrinkles on my hand hurt too, especially around the creases between my thumb and the back of the hand. At least my mind is still active—writing daily blogs, novel-writing and working on crossword puzzles with my husband.
Those hands were once the subject of a beautiful photograph used in an exhibition. I guess the shape is the same—maybe a little broader. I can't wear my wedding ring any more. Instead, I wear a signet-style ring made from an Australian ruby set in 18ct gold. The only trouble with that is I commissioned the ring to be made out the melted gold from two former wedding bands and my first husband gave me the ruby he bought from the gem fields of Emerald, Queensland in Australia. My present husband doesn't comment. We've agreed that the ring takes the place of my wedding band.
Aging stages for the last 15 yrs. My arms and legs are the same size, although every now and again I catch sight of dimples underarm where the muscles have released. I don't wear make-up any more. My husband and I live a quiet life together and I rarely see anyone else so I can't see the point of painting my face at the age of 71. And here it is, showing the changes over the last 15 years. A smile looks better than a straight face, but the final shot had to be a serious passport-style photo for my disabled parking badge. A smile makes all the difference—as does make-up.
On the plus side, body hair on legs and under my arms is invisible and odor a thing of the past. The hair on my head is soft, long and strong, each strand twice as thick as before.
Against that, with a decreased production of natural oils, my skin is dry, lips painful unless slathered in protection. With age, the skin thins and becomes less elastic and more fragile. Wrinkles, age spots and small growths on my torso are increasing.
On the plus side, body hair on legs and under my arms is invisible and odor a thing of the past. The hair on my head is soft, long and strong, each strand twice as thick as before.
Against that, with a decreased production of natural oils, my skin is dry, lips painful unless slathered in protection. With age, the skin thins and becomes less elastic and more fragile. Wrinkles, age spots and small growths on my torso are increasing.
www.guardian.co.uk Apparently, aging bones tend to shrink in size and density, which weakens them and makes them more susceptible to fracture. I've lost nearly three inches in height. I've become less coordinated as my muscles lose strength and flexibility. It takes longer to remember familiar words or names. Maintaining a healthy weight is more difficult too. As you get older, your muscle mass decreases and body fat takes its place. Since fat tissue burns fewer calories than does muscle, you need fewer calories to maintain your current weight. This one really worries me. I don't like the stomach protruding whereas before I could feel my hips.
See more on Aging: What to expect. Click here to see what do about it. The advice consists of eating well, maintaining exercise and keeping your brain active.
There's even a Viagra for Women, Lybrido, for those who want to enhance or recapture their sexual experiences. Some women argue that the menopause is unfair to women, drying them up in every way. The same thing doesn't happen to men, who can go on reproducing for life. Women also grow fine hair on their jaw, which is so despised in our culture, yet normal for men.
Well, there you have it. I've revealed the good and the bad associated with aging. I want to go on writing. One of my online writing friends, Laurel Lamperd, is 104 years old and has seven published novels. For me, the worst is yet to come—the possibility of living in a retirement home with nothing to keep the brain alive until the body surrenders. And worst of all—doing it alone.
See more on Aging: What to expect. Click here to see what do about it. The advice consists of eating well, maintaining exercise and keeping your brain active.
There's even a Viagra for Women, Lybrido, for those who want to enhance or recapture their sexual experiences. Some women argue that the menopause is unfair to women, drying them up in every way. The same thing doesn't happen to men, who can go on reproducing for life. Women also grow fine hair on their jaw, which is so despised in our culture, yet normal for men.
Well, there you have it. I've revealed the good and the bad associated with aging. I want to go on writing. One of my online writing friends, Laurel Lamperd, is 104 years old and has seven published novels. For me, the worst is yet to come—the possibility of living in a retirement home with nothing to keep the brain alive until the body surrenders. And worst of all—doing it alone.
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