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The other day I got a belated birthday gift that had been ordered but hadn’t arrived in time.  My new shirt says, “It took me 65 years to look this good”.

My initial reaction was, “Why do I want to tell the whole world how old I am?”  Then I mulled it all over and decided I like the shirt and that I actually like flaunting my age.  I have been proudly claiming my senior citizen discount for a while, when and wherever I was permitted to do so before having reached my 65th milestone, so why not wear the shirt?  It’s true that most of the waitstaff and customer service providers I encounter are in their teens or barely past, so I imagine I look old to them and don’t get too many reactions one way or the other.  I do get some, though and admit that I enjoy it when I get comments of surprise that this is my age.  Once I  actually  had to pull out my driver’s license to prove that I was legitimately entitled to the senior discount. I still smile if someone tells me I don’t look my age, because I must acknowledge that I possess  a certain amount of vanity, but I know that whether or not I look young is not an accomplishment for which I can take much, if any, personal credit.  It’s mostly in the genes!

 I remember how indignant I felt many years ago because I was carded till my mid to late 30’s.   It even infuriated me at times. At age 35,  I was widowed and had been through life’s wringer.  I had lost multiple family members, had lived through years of caring for a sick husband and finally, had lost him and most of what he, my kids and I owned in a terrible fire.  I felt almost disrespected when people could not see on my face the sum of my life experiences and thought I was just a kid, not even entitled to a glass of wine in public.

One day, in a fit of annoyance, at age 36, I cut off my long braids and went for a makeover. It was the first time since my early teens that I had set foot in a beauty salon. It just wasn’t my style, but I needed a change and wanted to look more my age. I felt positive about the new look, but it didn’t seem to make a difference. I continued to get carded on the rare occasions that I got to go out and enjoy myself.

I never in a million years thought there might come a day when I would want to look younger than my chronological age.  On the other hand, I am what I am and who I am. There is absolutely no way I would want to live through the things I did in earlier decades. Life isn’t always a picnic now, but it’s the life I have. All we have with any certainty is the life we can see, feel, smell, touch and enjoy in this very moment. The past is part of the recipe that has produced the “masterpiece” that we are today. The future is unknown. Anything can happen and probably will…both good and bad.  Like everyone else, I have times when the uncertainty worries me and gets me down. Then I remember that I am a SURVIVOR and I review the trials and tribulations through which I have had to prove that to myself.