Old Age Brings Out the Animal in Me

Old age sure brings out the animal in me. No, I am not talking about an inner cougar waiting to be unleashed, Demi Moore style. Rather, I am finding that as I grow more “vintage,” a sorry assortment of raggedy creatures are starting to represent me. In my heyday, I used to be the bee’s knees and the cat’s meow, or that’s how I like to remember it anyhow. Not anymore…

To my dismay, I find that I am now becoming slow as a turtle and blind as a bat.

c/o wellsphere.com

 This turkey’s neck hanging down from under my chin?At the rate it’s growing, it can practically feed a party of five at a Thanksgiving dinner. (Gobble, gobble!) Don’t get me started either on these bat’s wings that used to be my arms. The way these suckers flap, they could fly me to geriatric infinity and beyond. With my hormonal levels dropping to record lows, it won’t be long before I’ll turn scaly as a fish. With my luck, I have no doubt I’ll end up smelling like one, too.


    While wrinkles and folds are adorable on Shar Peis and babies,they are positively stomach-churning on adult females, specifically, me. Truly, life’s a zoo when one’s running out of reasons to be proud as a peacock.I suppose I shouldn’t fret. After all, it’s my husband, not me, who will soon be sleeping with an old goat, right?


    Wherever life’s safari will take me, I’ll find solace in the thought that I’m not in it alone. I will have my husband and the rest of my family and friends, including you, yes, I mean YOU, running in this senior citizen’s marathon I’m in. Believe you me. This is one marathon I am in no rush to finish first.

As a parting thought, let me just share with you these sad images of a once beautiful woman who could not accept what Mother Nature and Father Time had to give her… May it remind us that there is beauty in growing old gracefully, and tampering with God’s work can have disastrous results. However, a little improvement here and there might not be so bad?