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On Turning Seventy
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TITLE (EDIT)
On Turning Seventy
DESCRIPTION
A woman ponders the march of time
[717 words]
TITLE KEYWORD
Motivational
AUTHOR
Liilia Morrison
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Writer and artist living in South Florida
[August 2016]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (22)
A Thousand Camels (Poetry) A caravan of long ago [173 words] [History]
A Treat For Heinke (Short Stories) A girl finds hope during wartime [1,028 words] [Spiritual]
A Werewolf? (Short Stories) A man entrances a woman in Miami, or is he a werewolf? [1,492 words] [Mystical]
And The Winner Is (Short Stories) A summer camp sports competition has a surprise ending [1,132 words]
As It Comes (Short Stories) A discarded, ragged notebook found on the sidewalk brings impressions and thoughts to the person who found it. [756 words] [Drama]
Down In The Country (Short Stories) The end of the line ain't what it's cracked up to be. [840 words] [Drama]
Endangered (Poetry) A love goes bad [45 words] [Romance]
Garlic, Ginger And Golden Seal (Short Stories) An old woman's recipe for a long life [1,868 words] [Mystery]
Grandma, I Love You (Non-Fiction) Memories of my maternal grandmother [1,027 words] [Biography]
How Lizard Lenny Svaed My Life (Short Stories) A woman escapes life under the El thanks to a man called Lizard Lenny [1,255 words] [Relationships]
It's About Time (Short Stories) Ups and downs in the world of quantum physics [1,475 words] [Humor]
Just Another Joe (Short Stories) A gumshoe takes it as it comes [1,096 words] [Health]
Kylie (Short Stories) Success is not always what we think it is. A girl chooses between fame or love. [1,700 words]
Magnolia (Short Stories) A young woman finds out what a magnolia smells like [1,208 words]
Ode To Wayne Dyer (Poetry) A light roast of self-help books [262 words] [Humor]
Ovidio Gets A Smoke (Short Stories) A party turns sour but Ovidio ends up sittin' pretty. [1,160 words] [Suspense]
She Saw It All (Poetry) Statue of Liberty Saw 9-11 [190 words]
Teacups And Time (Poetry) A troubled, cold soul finally finds warmth [151 words] [Spiritual]
Thank You For Not Sleeping (Short Stories) Thoughts go all over the page during the night [1,257 words] [Mind]
The Mysterious Gypsy (Short Stories) Among old photos of Northern people, an exotic gypsy's photo appears. Who is she? [1,457 words] [History]
Tom's Moon (Short Stories) A little doll makes a difference [857 words]
Too Late For Coffee (Short Stories) An old man's last days with an angel [1,489 words] [Spiritual]
On Turning Seventy
Liilia Morrison

Well, this is the year. I'm turning seventy. Yes, I know Warren Beatty (or is it Richard Gere?) is also turning seventy. My publicity shot looks nothing like the stars' publicity shots when they turn seventy. I do not have a publicity shot. Not even a cute old photo I might post online.

Actually, I'm a Lone Ranger in that respect. That's right. Although most of my friends are registered with harmony.com and other less costly dating services, I am a lone holdout. Come to think of it, I'm also holding out on L'Oreal Hair Products and Estee Lauder rejuvenating creams. Centrum Silver? Maybe next month. Spider vein removal? Dentures? Oh, yes, the ever-present temptation of face lifts, tucks and spa treatments: not now. Ever?

Well, what is left to occupy a soon to be seventy year old woman? I don't even do cottage cheese with prunes on the side. I never cooked well enough to discuss the fancy meat pockets I made for three hundred guests, but would not cook now because it's too much trouble. That's because I never cooked fancy meat pockets in the first place. Bingo? Bridge? I'm allergic to board and card games, always was. Gossip? It's hard to get worked up about someone's heart surgery or smoker's patch.

I did perk up the old ear at the Senior Center when one of the golden gals propositioned the muscular kitchen helper. That was during my annual visit to that facility. Other than that, my life is quite ordinary. It is for good or ill, a lot like my life was in my sixties, fifties, forties, thirties and so forth. Actually, I just feel like me, whatever that may be.

One thing I do, more so than ever before. I give thanks that my fingers are working just fine, as are my legs. My stomach growls a little more, but I can still put away that arroz con pollo dish, laced with café con leche and Cuban toast. I can still run after a bus and find that few people offer me a seat. Actually, the bus driver the other day wanted to see proof of my age; thought I was trying to cheat on the fare, I guess. Today, that's something to be grateful for.

I'm grateful my kids still talk to me, as do my grandkids. I'm grateful to be living in a senior residence where I feel safe from everything except hour-long chats about medication and wheelchairs. I am grateful that I don't want to go down with the ship, but look forward to being in a nursing home, if necessary. I watch the Alzheimer pod and admire the fun they have and the caring workers there.

I'm grateful to not envy ninety year olds who swim in arctic waters or leap over tennis nets with little white shorts. I'm grateful I don't have to try to find a boyfriend on a motorcycle to capture an imaginary youthful dream. I was too chicken to ride a Vespa when I was in my cups. Driving? Never liked it much, but do it mostly to please my family. I'm the one who annually makes a plea to get rid of my most current car, especially those little red Miattas I seem to collect without effort. So I am grateful that I am not surgically attached to a vehicle. A bus will do just fine, thank you.

I'm grateful that I don't have to suck my gut in as I try on clothes too tight or too uncomfortable. Today, I wear loose, cotton clothes. Hopefully, the colors are light and bright, to help me feel upbeat. I can wear heels if I choose, but usually don't. I don't want to look ten years younger, so I save a lot of money on TV offers and fancy creams. Yes, I do lift my cheeks once in a while in the bathroom mirror to remember what I looked like a little while ago. But then I let them fall again and thank God for every wrinkle I have. Besides, they don't look as bad when I smile or laugh.

Loose garments? Today, I like to live my life the way I wear my clothes, like a loose, flowing garment. With bare feet, of course.

 

READER'S REVIEWS (3)
DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.

"Liillia, I LOVED this piece! I am 55, and you are my heroine!!! This was so well written, it held my interest, and it was delightful! Thanks for the opportunity to read your essay. Julie Fonda" -- Julie Fonda, Rancho Cucamonga, CA, USA.
"I'm probably one of the few who visit this site who can appreciate where you're coming from. Age-wise, I'm right on your heels. My biggest problem is that I'm hung up on the past. I think the kids who post on this site have missed a lot despite their access to the internet, cell phones, and all the other technology at their finger tips. I used to love old time radio and reading the classics. I remember how much my mother loved to read Agatha Christie and Mary Roberts Rhinehart. I even liked the old time comics better than today's satirical and intellectual type of humor. Terry and the Pirates, Little Orhpan Annie, Joe Palooka and Lil' Abner would seem pretty lame to these kids today but then, I think our modern culture is also pretty lame. Maybe I've become cynical but hell, I think we've earned the right haven't we?" -- Richard.
"Oh,God! It was something!I am 33 and dream some day express the same thoughts about my 70!Sure you live in harmony with yourself.The people like you are never old in their appearance and clothes.I wish you have the same spirit in your 80s and 90s.It is areal gift from God who gave you wisdom not to burn your head with all those fluffy lips and artificial breasts.Good luck!Keep doing what you're doing and you'll live longer and much happier!" -- Elena Kravtsova, Nikolaev, Ukraine.

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2007 Liilia Morrison
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
May 2007
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
1438
 

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