Aging

I was waiting to cross the street tonight and saw a lady in her car at the light. She was 50 ish trying to look 15 ish. You know the type - clothes too young, hairstyle and hair color a little too out there, fake tan accentuating wrinkles, etc.

I wonder if people who do rage against the advancing years know that they really are drawing attention to it. And I wonder how look to others. Do I look like I'm trying to look younger . . . or older? Do I look like I'm out of step with my generation? Do I just look as I should?

I like who I am - at every age I've been. I'm one of those odd ducks who doesn't mind birthdays or getting older. I have no problem telling people how old I am - well, that's not entirely true. I have a problem remembering how old I am sometimes and have to stop and count - but once I figure it out, I have no problem discussing it.

What I do have a problem with is my hands. Somewhere along the way I have picked up an old woman's hands. The skin is crepe-like and there are more lines and wrinkles than I remember. I looked down at my hands the other day and I wondered where they came from. Whose hands were these? I don't remember them being this way when I last looked. I haven't decided yet whether or not I like these new hands. I'm waffling. But since they are mine I'm sure they'll grow on me . . . so to speak.