Senior

Aging isn’t a graceful process; it’s full of little aches and pains, weird noises, unidentified sweats and chills, lots of dental drama and so on.  Aging is not, I repeat NOT graceful.

Those who seem to do so probably have either a clone, a painting a la Dorian Grey or a poly-suit they zip into every morning before facing the world.  In my case, what gravity hasn’t attacked years of hard living has.  Well, my youth wasn’t exactly graceful either, so no doubt that quality will be absent in my Golden Years. 

I remember as a young girl, watching women in their fifties and sixties.  They looked old…I mean older than folks that age look and act today.  Back then I wondered what it would be like, watching my life ebb away in slow, calendared moments.  Looking back, it seems I’ve stuck to my vow of not getting “old,” so far I’ve maintained a youthful attitude.  And although I’m graying and will probably soon be in dentures, I’m far from over the hill.

A big improvement over the days when people were put out to pasture when they got past fifty.

So for today Fifty Five Is The New Senior….a lot younger now than we ever were.

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