The other night Gerhardt and I watched a new TV reality series called "Brooklyn D.A." One of the cases involved a woman who, at 51, had gone in for liposuction and wound up dying from the procedure. (If you want all the gory details I'm sure you can find the episode on line.) We the viewers were showed pictures of this woman and she was lovely. It made me sad to think that she lost her life over a bit of dimply fat. I have no idea how often this happens, but if it even happens to one woman that's one too many in my opinion.
And it made me really sad to think that so many of us American women as we age feel the need to go to extremes to fix and repair our looks. Of course, we all want to look attractive. I get that. And I have to admit, I'm not happy about the dirty tricks Mother Nature keeps playing on me as I get older. (I thought we women were supposed to stick together!) But, no matter how hard we fight it, eventually, we will age. None of us at fifty looks exactly like she did at twenty. But do we need to? And to what lengths are we willing to go to try? And why? Why are we so horrified to look in the mirror and see an older face?
I blame it on our sex saturated, age-biased culture. I think, for the most part, America is not a country that venerates its older people. We often make jokes at our senior citizens' expense or we ignore them. Old people. What do they have to offer? Other than a wealth of experience and wisdom and a listening ear? Gosh, I guess not much.
Would I like to be young again? Well, yeah... if I could know as much as I know now. Do hate wrinkles? You bet. But I can think of so many more worthwhile ways to spend my money than a face lift. So I'm just going to keep trying to age gracefully... and healthfully. And be thankful for each new day and each new life line that proves I'm living my life well.