As I mentioned in an earlier post, I had a tooth break off earlier this week. Although I don't see my dentist until Friday, I have a feeling I know what he'll say, "This doesn't look good." Duh. I already know that. The tooth is dead and there's not enough of it to crown. He'll probably suggest an implant, that is, if the bone is good enough to hold it. I may just have to do without a tooth there. But, what I'm wondering is - why am I not more upset? There was a time when such a dental crisis would have had me in tears.
I think the answer is that I'm learning to accept the inevitable effects of getting older. I'm a bit like a jalopy that has been driven so long and so far that it's no surprise that pieces are starting to fall off!
I remember one morning last year I was sitting at my dressing table concerned about dark areas close to the inner corner of both my eyes. Did I fail to remove all my eye makeup the night before? I grabbed a wash cloth and began to scrub...and scrub...and scrub. Nope, those dark areas must have crept up on my face when I wasn't looking, but are obviously here to stay. So, the paint job on the old girl is beginning to fade, too!
And yes, when I go downstairs for the first time in the morning, I hear so many joints cracking it's like an arthritic symphony! When did that happen? I may need to start warming my engine before putting it into drive.
And hairs! Well, I really don't want to go there, but I've noticed impudent little hairs sprouting in places where they have no damned business! No damned business at all! But that will remain a secret between me and my Lady Schick!
The thing is, the little signs of getting older are no fun. Seriously. But what can I expect? This body is still pretty darned healthy and through all my younger years I certainly gave it a run for its money. Oh yeah! I used to cover my body in coconut oil and lay in the sun for hours! Yes I did! Who knew?
When I first started to see the signs of getting older, it depressed me. Now, I take it with a grain of salt. There's always someone worse off than me. So I count my blessings.
What I think is funny is that younger readers in their twenties and thirties will read this and think, "Oh, I'd hate to start looking old. That's so sad." I know, because I used to look at older women and think the same thing when I'd see wrinkles and veiny hands. But, let me tell you something girls. No one gets out of this world alive. And this "getting older" thing - it doesn't just announce itself one day. No, it creeps up and sneaks up on you until one day you look in the mirror and say, "Where did this second chin come from?" Or maybe you'll go to wash off a smudge on your chest only to discover it's an AGE SPOT! Or maybe you'll just be running down the stairs, hear something fall, look down, and discover YOUR NOSE JUST FELL OFF! Don't laugh. I put nothing past this age thing.
Having said all that, I'm just going to keep tooling along. (Albeit maybe minus a tooth!) If I'm lucky, I'll still have quite a few good miles left in me. And if I'm not, worrying won't change a thing.
Original source: http://starsimplified.wordpress.com/?p=175
