Tell Me Honestly

As I grapple with the moderate physical changes that have been coming my way I know the real struggle is that I am trying to emotionally prepare for the big things. So I've dealt with gray in unexpected places. Places that I never thought about turning gray. Or thickening in places that have never felt so squeezed into clothing on non dressy occasions . Love handles, foot problems, no, real foot problems! So I have dug an emotional little fox hole that I hide inside of privately for those "oh my god" moments as I prepare for the big things. Once digested I crawl out and face the world.

The latest thing to send my into my lil hole was after I ran into a former friend on the street. Former, for no other reason than time and proximity. As we spoke I noticed the sunshine put a glint on the little gray beard that was popping out of the very bottom of her chin. There was no question. There she blows, a beard, a gray beard. It was more than a few hairs of a pubescent fair haired boy. It was full thick growth needing an epilady or large sturdy tweezers or an old fashioned Gilette razor. I wonder if she doesn't see it or doesn't care. One would have to notice a texture change as you wash your face that there is a new wiry substance where there once was dewy soft skin. Do I tell her or do I send her an anonymous note? I personally would die and would expect a friend to embarrass me by pulling me aside out of ear range and let me down fast and hard. Tell me because they care about me and my dignity. Why do I care? Is not caring one of the other things coming my way down the pike?


Said friend has a few years on me. So in my hole I am wondering if there is a beard in my future? Do I need to dig my foxhole deeper. I certainly need to add this clause to my pact with my friends of things that we will tell each other when we don't know any better and someone should tell us. Previously discussed were big things like losing our minds, looking unkept and drool. But I think I need to expand the list. The Things friends and family should tell me about as I age that I would be embarrassed about if I had the sense and was unaware that they were happening to me. Can we make this deal? If you know me and my ass is hanging out of jeans that I should no longer be wearing pull me to the side and set me straight. When I cry from embarrassment and the depths of my dissolution hold me up and tell me something humiliating about yourself. We can have a good laugh and if I'm that far gone I probably won't remember your stained story so you don't need to worry about me spreading tales and I'll owe you one.