QMusings

Throughout my life I’ve heard reports on my mom’s aging process.

One thing that has remained constant is her belief that that the younger you are, the juicier you are. Therefore, you dry up as you get older.

She has this idea that we start life as grapes and end up as raisins.

She would point out various parts of her body to illustrate her point. One favorite form of “proof” is comparing her hands to mine: the bones on the back of her hand protrude more,  therefore she is more “dried up” than I.

She says, “Look! All the meat is shriveling, that’s why my bones are showing.”

I’m not quite sure how to respond to that.

She says, “You know why older woman have a fuzzy face?”

I say, “I think it’s due to some kind of hormonal change.”

She says, “They are drying up! What happens is that their skin is shrinking so the hairs look longer!”

I say, “Hmmm.”

There is a strange appeal to her juicy/young, dry/old, grape/raisin logic.

The logical side of me is thinking about the aging process: cellular breakdown, loss of collagen, and sun damage.

The creative and emotional side of me thinks that drying up is a good enough explanation of aging as I’ve seen.

You start out as a grape and you slowly dry out until you’re a raisin. Any attempts to make to retain your youthfulness are really attempts to add “juice.”

Mom points out how celebrities add fillers like collagen injections to look juicy. They are trying to plump out the raisin.

Appealing as mom’s logic is, it also drives me a bit nuts.

I don’t want to view aging as a process of drying out. We’re not supposed to be grapes forever.

Besides, how many people do you know who look young but are all dried up inside? And what about all those “old folks” who are full o’ juice?

What makes a person juicy?

• A positive attitude.
• Creativity.
• Curiosity.
• A sense of humor, an appreciation of the absurd.
• Self-acceptance

Dorothy Parker said, “Beauty is only skin deep, but ugly goes clean to the bone.”

There is truth to that statement.

Most people worry about the skin and not so much about what is within.

Anne Lamott said, “Joy is the best makeup.”

I know I’ll become a raisin.  But I hope to remain juicy.
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When you spot a penny on the street, do you pick it up?

I do.

Well, I do if it doesn’t look icky. Based on how many pennies I’ve picked up off the ground over the years, not many people pick up pennies. Pennies aren’t worth the effort.

Pennies must not be worth the effort of pocketing as I’ve seen as many as seven scattered together.

I feel a bit self-conscious picking up the pennies but invariably that extra penny allows me to even out my change when I pay in cash. I like being able to give $10.02 for something that costs $9.77 and get a quarter back instead of 2 dimes and 3 pennies.

This brings me to the topic of dimes.

If you saw a dime on the street, would you pick it up?

I certainly would.  Unless it were covered in goo.

This past Sunday I was buying bread at the Farmers Market. The bread stand usually has a line snaking around it.

As I reached over to pay for the bread, I noticed a dime on the white cloth covered display. The dime wasn’t hidden amongst the folds; it shone in bright new dimeness. Since it wasn’t covered in goo, I took it.

I ended up using the dime soon after to pay for something that involved 35 cents. I only had 27 cents so the dime was perfect.

The next day I spotted a dime as I was leaving the train station on the way to work. People were streaming along with me.

It was not far from the little coffee shack where people paused to buy a cup. You’d think they’d have picked it up then.

It’s not like it was covered in goo.

As I stooped to pick it up, I wondered if people thought a dime wasn’t worth anything. If a penny is thought to be worth nothing, were dimes valued at next to nothing?

Are dimes the new penny?

I was also struck by the fact that I found a dime 2 days in a row. A penny I can understand, they are uh, a dime a dozen on the street. I wondered if this was merely coincidence.

I found out that I’m not the only one finding dimes.

I also found a site that wasn’t about coins but about change.

You may not want to pick up those pennies and dimes lying on the ground but small (positive) change is a good thing.

Keep Your Coins I Want Change

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“A girl with good looks is like a guy with money.”

So sayeth my mom.

“Beauty is like social currency, the more you have, and the more popular you are.”

My mom was quite the hottie in her day.  She’s still pretty cute but when she was younger?

Dang.

My mom is like most attractive women – she feels her worth it tied to her looks: the prettier you are, the more you are worth.

Beauty fades.

My mom is struggling with aging.

But it’s more than the aches and pains that she struggles with, it’s her feeling that she’s no longer attractive.

Aging ain’t pretty: the body slows down, the skin sags, and parts start to break down.

When beauty is your currency, you’re going to run out of cash.

Mom feels poor and there’s nothing I can do to make her feel rich.

She thrusts out her arms, showing me the back of her hands. Her hands are slender and traced with pale green veins, the fingers slightly bent from arthritis.

“Look at this! All dried up!” she tells me.

“I’m no longer juicy, ” she says, pointing to the delicate bones in her hand.

“Young folks are juicy. When you’re young you’re a grape. When you’re old, you’re a raisin.”

According to mom, it’s better to be juicy; life is good as a grape.

My mom is creative and funny and observant and oddly wise.

She drives me nuts and I love her.

Beauty comes at a cost and yet we all want to pay the price.

I admit – it’s easier to be rich than it is to be poor.

At 44, I’m not as juicy as I used to be.

I don’t want to be poor and I struggle with my loss of social currency.

But I also realize it’s only money.

If beauty if only skin deep, then loving yourself seems the better investment.

Loving yourself goes down to the soul.

What better way to be rich?

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