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IT'S NOT ABOUT REACHING A CERTAIN AGE
IT'S ABOUT COMING TO AN AGE OF CERTAINTY.
Take control of your destiny and
start living your next life now!
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“My eyebrows are falling off and landing on my upper lip.”
I laughed hysterically when my mother said that to me more than 20 years ago. My
mom always went for the laugh. She was good at it too.Still, her comment isn’t as
funny today as it was back then.
Mom was a woman of the 30’s and 40’s Hollywood glamour school. She had a
real vanity, with mirrors framed by graceful wooden curves and a matching bench.
As a young girl, barely a Saturday went by that I didn’t watch my mother, with
fascination and admiration, sitting at her vanity to apply her makeup and style her
hair before going on her standing date with my father. In later years, a triple
magnifying mirror with a long, curving goose-neck took its place among other
essentials on the vanity top.
I am of south-central European heritage. The women in our family don’t have eye
brows; they have great, hairy black beasts growing in a line across their forehead. I
learned the finer points of plucking and waxing at an early age (and not just
eyebrows).
Lately I’ve been thinking that my eyebrows have finally surrendered to the near 40
year assault of tearing them out by the roots. That is until I purchased a magnifying
mirror like Mom’s. To my utter horror I realized that it’s not hair follicles I’m losing
– it’s my eyesight.
Okay, the hairy black beast has thinned out a bit – but not nearly as much as I
thought. Anybody who can still read a menu in a dim restaurant – scratch that.
Anybody who can still read a menu without holding it at arm’s length in an outdoor
café with the high-noon sun directly over their shoulder, can plainly see that I need
to schedule a waxing appointment. The sooner the better.
Worse yet, mom’s great joke is on me. Like dandelion fluff that blows in the wind
and plants a million seed on the lawn, the eyebrow hairs that have fallen off and
landed on my upper lip have taken root! As well as on my chin, and worst of all,
around the edges of my nostrils.
Certain benefits accompany age – like a larger income to spend on great
accessories. If you live in the north, where I do, you might flaunt your discretionary
spending status on fur-lined, kidskin gloves, or maybe a fur-lined full length coat.
But a fur lined nose? – HELL NO to that!
When mom grew older, she worried about spending her final days in a nursing
home. She asked if I would, please, at least pluck her eyebrows and her moustache
regularly.
Oh sure, I thought. I’d be holding her down with one knee on her chest while
ripping out facial hair with a tweezers and she’d be begging me to stop. Behind my
back, she’d tell the nursing staff not to let me visit because I hurt her.
The other day, my 19 year old daughter told me she wouldn’t be wiping my drool
when I was old and feeble minded. I can’t remember how we arrived at that
particular subject because while I may not be old, exactly, I am feeble minded
But, I’m not too worried about the impending drooling.. I’m sure the moustache
and chin whiskers will wick it right up.
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