Is That You?

That question is not an insult per se, but when it is asked while someone is looking at your old photo and then his eyeballs pivot toward you, he is actually being polite. What he means—but bites his tongue— is, What on earth happened to you?! 

Even if that unasked question were yodeled on a mountain peak, I take no offense. In fact, I am laughing while writing about it—as I hear that question more often these days. 

Any reference to my youth is relevant only as far as the vibrant memories are concerned, but what has happened to my facade is of minor importance. Beauty regimens are a thing of the past when one reaches a certain age—think of all that money and time saved for prettying oneself!  

The question, “What on earth happened to you?” can be answered by one word: age. 

And as sure as “the sun will come out tomorrow,” age carts along with it a carry-all that contains a multitude of things: illnesses, tragedies, failures, losses, and disappointments. 

Rescuing grace lightens the load on the road, but the cargo piles up through the years, and its increasing weight takes a toll on one’s skin, eyes, ears, hair, muscles, posture, veins, organs—name it. Every living and non-living matter on earth atrophies over time.  

Youth is ephemeral. 

Despite my aches, pains, and discomforts today, I can honestly say, without meaning to boast, that I am comfortable in my own skin.  

If someone asks, “Is that you?” 

My reply, “That I was, then. This I am, now.” 

A perfect example of a comparative ad.  

"Is not wisdom found among the aged? Does not long life bring understanding?” (Job 12:12 NIV) 

o o o

P.S.

Tony and I exchanged marriage vows 51 years ago, today, with our immediate family members as witnesses.