Chin Hair
The idea came to me at my husband's aunt's wake. She was 101 and lying in repose in a beautiful coffin with her hands folded across her chest caressing her rosary beads. My girlfriend and I approached the casket to pay our last respects. The room was rather empty. At 101 there aren't too many people remembering you. And it was quiet for that same reason. We stood over her. We were standing together and I carefully leaned a bit closer to my girlfriend as we were somberly looking at Aunt Mil and I whispered:
"Here's the promise: if I go first, you'll take care of it. If you go first, it will be my responsibility. Deal? Deal!"
We were holding hands and accepted that as our handshake cementing our pact and tiptoed away.
The deal? Chin hair! Make it gone. No matter what. If you have to bring a razor with you to my coffin - so be it - but promise me I will not leave this world with a last wily and wiry chin hair screaming for attention.
Why is it that when we get older we get hairier in the worst places? This of course as we are losing hair in the best places. My husband has a soft circular almost nebula shaped thinning at the back of his head. But he suddenly has nose hairs sprouting like spring grass. I have chin hairs and God how did that happen where singular long hairs spring one at a time from my chin and sometimes my neck - daily? And they just appear - fully grown and dark, thick and ready for battle. Why didn't I see it before? Was it ever a little baby hair that started to appear? That doesn't seem to happen. They are just there - fully matured so to speak.
I tweeze my eyebrows daily. I shave my legs when I have to (yes, much more often when I was younger - now it depends upon what I'm wearing). I even shave my arms (started that in my teens and once you start you can never go back). My mustache? Yup I shave that but that's easy. All just part of my daily routine. But these other random chin and neck hairs are persistent and ornery and insistent and a new surprise about aging I just was not prepared for.
I can live with gray hair on my head. Rather like it truthfully. It is much more acceptable these days if not actually a style to aspire to. Its been years since I've had my hair tinted or dyed or anything and I love it. Saves me money, saves me time and for some reason it gives the impression of my (real or hoped for) inherent comfort with my maturity. Ah, but the wily chin and neck hairs are not gray. They are not soft. They are usually black or at least the darkest brown and just THERE and not just there but standing at attention. They are screaming for attention.
Is there some understandable physiological, scientifically explainable reason for them? I have to think there is especially as they are only appearing in this number now. Humans are hairy beings and the hair we have is generally for protection. Hair keeps you warm, helps keeps germs and bacteria and bay, assists with protecting all sorts of areas from insects and the like, protects you from the sun.. Will someday it be found that they might portend some illness or age related ailment? I could accept the logic of these annoying me with their surprise appearances if they had a reason. Like, hmmmm, black hair on the chin every three to four days is an indicator of osteopenia. Or, perhaps, dark brown hair at the front of the neck might warrant blood tests for cholesterol. Of course if this were true, attending to these newly realized issues would then eliminate the hairs upon remedying the physical or medical situation. That at least would some sense.
But to prepare oneself each day with one's "toilette" and with time accept the aging one sees: jowls, sagging, age spots, creepy eyelids, graying eyebrows for God's sake. That is all, well, it has to be manageable and we've all been forewarned by our elders in person and in the media what the future holds for us as we get older. I've survived the hot flashes. Im living with the creaky knees. I can take care of my ever so less tolerant stomach. But... a hair here or there jutting out from my neck as I am starting my day or a hair waving hello from my chin? Nope!
Saturday, August 4, 2018
Wednesday, August 1, 2018
My Big Reveal!
So... when I was and still adjusting to MY "Endolescence" - where your body, your mind, your hormones and your expectations are jumbled in a ball if not ricocheting throughout you. And Im trying to navigate to land at some comfortable place in my young older age — I decide I need a new style to help carry me through.
I am vain enough to try and find a style for this next decade:
1. I'm lazy so my hair is longer and grayer but I'm no Scandinavian beauty like those women populating Pinterest... So I'll just keep my hair pulled back in a hopefully sophisticated ponytail. Save some money that way too.
2. I've always hated all makeup except of course for eye makeup and I have a lot more time... So... I'll work on a tan (spray and sun intermittently) and voila = I no longer look like a stalk of celery.
3. And sunglasses - always loved accessorizing - now I need all kinds of glasses to see far and wide and close and tiny. So... The bigger and darker the better. Plus it keeps me away from strangers.
4. Lastly crisp cotton white tailored shirts are a classic for any age. Stand up collars and folded cuffs are just too completely cool. So... Still love them and still wear them whenever I can. I'm way past Chico's (no frills or bling) but I'm not dead (will never do polyester). So... My colors are black, white and gray (to match my hair)... And sometimes a surprise beige in there somewhere.
And who do I look like?
Caught myself in a reflection the other day...
And oh my God I look like...
Wait for it...
KARL LAGERFELD !!!
Well, the man has style!
An Unexpected Lift
An Unexpected Lift
We’ve all experienced tough times. Really tough painful almost unbearable times. And the older you get the less surprised you may be about the possibility of them. Age and experience however does not diminish the agony and sheer sadness of some of them. And, of course you are never prepared.
This past Christmas season, December 23rd as a matter of fact I had a collection of events develop where the two people closest to me (my 33 year old daughter and my husband of 25 years) were truly abandoning me emotionally. I had had a difficult few years. Enough so that I separated from my husband for a year, My daughter had no tolerance for that (he’s her stepfather by the way) since she was sure whatever the situation was it was my fault and had to be because I was “difficult.” And my husband was bewildered, angry and resentful. I was alone. I’ve been alone before. I was raised by a family that Tennessee Williams couldn’t match insofar as being alone. Feeling alone was a misery quite comfortable to me.
But this time was different. I was sure I was losing my sanity, my mind and my will to live. I was being abandoned by my daughter and husband at the end of my life (I’m 64) and I came into this life emotionally abandoned by my own mother and physically abandoned by my father at 2 1/2 years old. So I was feeling “poor me” with tears I couldn’t hide,
My husband at our home in New Jersey was being “snarly” as I called it after I thought I made so many concessions to try and make our marriage work (more on that with other entries) so I was not feeling “in the spirit” or “at home”. My daughter, with the best of intentions, invited me to her house in San Diego for the holidays since I was miserable. But remember she has her own feelings and necessity for distance from this situation. She’s disappointed I may leave this marriage like I left her father years ago. And, she’s a therapist so of course she has this whole thing all sorted out in her own mind regardless of what may be her own emotional vulnerabilities and not so objective skewing of what is happening.
So I ran (flew in every sense of the word) to San Diego on December 22. Well that didn’t bring much relief to me since from the beginning I got on her first nerve about everything from not using a coaster to not washing my coffee cup. Really? I’m the mom and I’m walking on eggshelves. In the state I was in I took responsibility for everything. If she’s behaving spoiled, self absorbed, selfish and thoughtless that must be my fault too. She is who I raised yes?
My husband and I were fighting on the phone in the middle of the night I arrived. My daughter was rolling her eyes like she was 16 all over again and I was weeping. By the way I’ve never cried before. No one ever saw me cry since I was a child but now quietly, without sobs I was weeping and weeping and weeping. My daughter said “ what’s wrong with you mom.” And I just said “ I’m having a hard time and sorry but it’s up there with a life crisis.” And then, and then, now in the early morning of December 23rd she threw up her arms, rolled her eyes and said “oh God what’s with the drama Queen?”
That shut me up, closed me up and tore me up inside, it was 10:00 in the morning and then SHE said “I think you should leave.” Now I stopped weeping. I stopped breathing. I just couldn’t believe this, There was nowhere for me to go. I know no one else there. It was Christmas... I had to go back. From awful in San Diego to miserable in New Jersey. I thought this was a badly written Lifetime movie.
I stayed calm. I’m very proud and stubbornly independent. I packed. I call the airlines and found the ONLY FLIGHT leaving that day was the Red Eye at 9:0O PM that night. It was now 10:30 in the morning. I booked it, showered, dressed, packed and sat in her living room at 11:00. I can, thankfully, keep my mind occupied with my gadgets. I read, play games, write. So long idle hours DONT scare me. But, but, but, now she sat across from the couch from me and quietly said: “I’m sorry mom but I think you should leave now.”
Now? Now? Go to the airport now at 11:00 in the morning when my flight wasn’t leaving for ten hours. Sit at the airport alone for 10 hours?
I stayed calm BUT the tears were streaming again, my throat was aching again, I wasn’t even sure I was breathing but I would maintain my dignity, waste no time fighting and just go. I called a car service, stood up, dragged my little wheeling suitcase outside to the corner and cried and cried and cried. Couldnt hide it. Couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t imagaine what this all meant and what hwould happen after this. Could this ever be repaired?
I was standing at the corner and remember trying to maintain all the dignity I could muster. But I was weeping and weeping and weeping. I couldn’t stop. At some short point after that my daughter shuffled with her fluffy slippers to give me the least sincere hug I’ve experienced outside of a business get together. Then she shuffled back to her house.
Then my Lyft driver arrived. A tiny little car with what looked like a tall, lanky, young guy inside. He was all sunshine and California healthy looking. Once I got into the car, he realized I was crying. I think the whole block must have been waiting for me to fall to my knees. He confirmed my airline and... then...looked at me in the rear view mirror... and delicately and sweetly asked me if I felt like talking. I barely whispered “no, but thank you for asking.” He told me he wasn’t being nosy but could listen if I needed it. Then we drove silently to the airport. Not a long drive.
When we got there he got out of his tiny little car. He had to be at least 6’ 2”. He got my bag and brought to me. And then he said... after a pause I suppose for him to consider it... “Do you need a hug?”
I was dumstruck, still weeping, totally surprised and looked at him... thought about it for about 3 seconds and said “Yes.” And he walked to me and gave me a real caring meaningful loving connecting human hug! He then said bye, walked to his car and drove away.
My Lyft driver gave me a lift having so many definitions. He gave me a “gift” I will never forget, always cherish and be reminded what can be wonderfully surprising it n our lives.
We’ve all experienced tough times. Really tough painful almost unbearable times. And the older you get the less surprised you may be about the possibility of them. Age and experience however does not diminish the agony and sheer sadness of some of them. And, of course you are never prepared.
This past Christmas season, December 23rd as a matter of fact I had a collection of events develop where the two people closest to me (my 33 year old daughter and my husband of 25 years) were truly abandoning me emotionally. I had had a difficult few years. Enough so that I separated from my husband for a year, My daughter had no tolerance for that (he’s her stepfather by the way) since she was sure whatever the situation was it was my fault and had to be because I was “difficult.” And my husband was bewildered, angry and resentful. I was alone. I’ve been alone before. I was raised by a family that Tennessee Williams couldn’t match insofar as being alone. Feeling alone was a misery quite comfortable to me.
But this time was different. I was sure I was losing my sanity, my mind and my will to live. I was being abandoned by my daughter and husband at the end of my life (I’m 64) and I came into this life emotionally abandoned by my own mother and physically abandoned by my father at 2 1/2 years old. So I was feeling “poor me” with tears I couldn’t hide,
My husband at our home in New Jersey was being “snarly” as I called it after I thought I made so many concessions to try and make our marriage work (more on that with other entries) so I was not feeling “in the spirit” or “at home”. My daughter, with the best of intentions, invited me to her house in San Diego for the holidays since I was miserable. But remember she has her own feelings and necessity for distance from this situation. She’s disappointed I may leave this marriage like I left her father years ago. And, she’s a therapist so of course she has this whole thing all sorted out in her own mind regardless of what may be her own emotional vulnerabilities and not so objective skewing of what is happening.
So I ran (flew in every sense of the word) to San Diego on December 22. Well that didn’t bring much relief to me since from the beginning I got on her first nerve about everything from not using a coaster to not washing my coffee cup. Really? I’m the mom and I’m walking on eggshelves. In the state I was in I took responsibility for everything. If she’s behaving spoiled, self absorbed, selfish and thoughtless that must be my fault too. She is who I raised yes?
My husband and I were fighting on the phone in the middle of the night I arrived. My daughter was rolling her eyes like she was 16 all over again and I was weeping. By the way I’ve never cried before. No one ever saw me cry since I was a child but now quietly, without sobs I was weeping and weeping and weeping. My daughter said “ what’s wrong with you mom.” And I just said “ I’m having a hard time and sorry but it’s up there with a life crisis.” And then, and then, now in the early morning of December 23rd she threw up her arms, rolled her eyes and said “oh God what’s with the drama Queen?”
That shut me up, closed me up and tore me up inside, it was 10:00 in the morning and then SHE said “I think you should leave.” Now I stopped weeping. I stopped breathing. I just couldn’t believe this, There was nowhere for me to go. I know no one else there. It was Christmas... I had to go back. From awful in San Diego to miserable in New Jersey. I thought this was a badly written Lifetime movie.
I stayed calm. I’m very proud and stubbornly independent. I packed. I call the airlines and found the ONLY FLIGHT leaving that day was the Red Eye at 9:0O PM that night. It was now 10:30 in the morning. I booked it, showered, dressed, packed and sat in her living room at 11:00. I can, thankfully, keep my mind occupied with my gadgets. I read, play games, write. So long idle hours DONT scare me. But, but, but, now she sat across from the couch from me and quietly said: “I’m sorry mom but I think you should leave now.”
Now? Now? Go to the airport now at 11:00 in the morning when my flight wasn’t leaving for ten hours. Sit at the airport alone for 10 hours?
I stayed calm BUT the tears were streaming again, my throat was aching again, I wasn’t even sure I was breathing but I would maintain my dignity, waste no time fighting and just go. I called a car service, stood up, dragged my little wheeling suitcase outside to the corner and cried and cried and cried. Couldnt hide it. Couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t imagaine what this all meant and what hwould happen after this. Could this ever be repaired?
I was standing at the corner and remember trying to maintain all the dignity I could muster. But I was weeping and weeping and weeping. I couldn’t stop. At some short point after that my daughter shuffled with her fluffy slippers to give me the least sincere hug I’ve experienced outside of a business get together. Then she shuffled back to her house.
Then my Lyft driver arrived. A tiny little car with what looked like a tall, lanky, young guy inside. He was all sunshine and California healthy looking. Once I got into the car, he realized I was crying. I think the whole block must have been waiting for me to fall to my knees. He confirmed my airline and... then...looked at me in the rear view mirror... and delicately and sweetly asked me if I felt like talking. I barely whispered “no, but thank you for asking.” He told me he wasn’t being nosy but could listen if I needed it. Then we drove silently to the airport. Not a long drive.
When we got there he got out of his tiny little car. He had to be at least 6’ 2”. He got my bag and brought to me. And then he said... after a pause I suppose for him to consider it... “Do you need a hug?”
I was dumstruck, still weeping, totally surprised and looked at him... thought about it for about 3 seconds and said “Yes.” And he walked to me and gave me a real caring meaningful loving connecting human hug! He then said bye, walked to his car and drove away.
My Lyft driver gave me a lift having so many definitions. He gave me a “gift” I will never forget, always cherish and be reminded what can be wonderfully surprising it n our lives.
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