Turning 60

Today I turn 60. I have been practicing that number for over a year with phrases like "as a woman turning 60" or "with 60 just around the bend." I thought doing that would help ease me into the next decade of my life. Well I was wrong!

When I woke up this morning I swear my body had aged 20 years overnight. My bones creaked when I got out of bed and my muscles screamed: "No! We're not playing anymore." Now I have to tell you that is no way to treat a lady, no matter her age.

As if that wasn't enough, when I ran a brush through my hair, I was appalled to find more of my hair left in the brush than on my head. Come on, weren't all those extra lines on my face enough evidence of this moment of defeat?

I studied myself in the mirror, counting all my new wrinkles and seeing what else began to sag. It was then that I noticed some of those nasty brown spots weren't freckles after all. Is there to be nothing left of my dignity?

Pulling on my clothes, I noted that they shrunk significantly in just 24 hours. I poked my husband for putting them through hot water and the even hotter dryer to trick me. After all, I couldn't possibly have gained five pounds while I slept.

So far, I'm not likely 60 one bit so I'm attacking it like I attack all the other negative things in my life; with a little bit of humor. . . .

The sun is shining on a lovely day.
It's time to get up and it's time to play.
But what's that I hear as I try to stand?
A decided squeak; that's not what I planned.

My balance gave way; I almost fell down
And the entire room was spinning around.
My muscles were sore, from bottom to top.
Whatever this is, I want it to stop.

I limped to the bathroom my teeth to brush.
My body refused to be in a rush.
I combed my hair; what's this that I find?
There's red in the comb and gray left behind.

I smiled to find more freckles on my face.
But some are too big; those I should erase.
A dozen new lines seem to have appeared;
New wrinkles and sags are just what I feared.

My beautiful white teeth seem to have changed
All of my features have been rearranged.
I covered the mirror and that did the trick
If I can't see it, it won't make me sick.

I hobbled back so that I could get dressed
Wondering how I became such a mess.
I pulled on my pants but the button popped.
I swear overnight that my chest has dropped.

Even my new shoes did not want to fit.
Maybe because I suddenly could not sit.
What's going on; what's happening to me?
Oh right, I forgot; I just turned sixty!