The Right To Bare Arms!

Remember that movie where some guy opens a window and yells out, “I am sick of this crap, and I’m not going to take it anymore”! Well, it went something like that. I don’t remember exactly what he said. But I am beginning to know exactly how he felt. Because my anxiety regarding the limitations of “aging” is increasing by the minute.

And I’m not talking physicality here... (is that a word)?

It began innocently. In my 50’s I think. I started to find myself drifting toward age appropriate clothing. It was a subtle move. Not something I woke up and decided I was going to do. But as time went on, little by little, I noticed I was eliminating certain styles, cuts and colors from my wardrobe.

This may seem like the appropriate thing to do for women my age. Lengthening our skirts, raising our necklines, covering our arms. But where does it end? I am getting to the point where I feel like it is just easier to stay home, than to go through all the trouble it takes not to “offend” anyone with my aging body parts!

Whoever said “Growing Old Isn’t For Sissies” hit the nail on the head. There is a book out there dealing with every phase of life, from gestation to geriatrics. But nothing that deals with this “transitional period”. You know, the “Im old, but not that old stage”.

Somehow I don’t think men suffer from the same dilemma. I really don’t know very many men who care whether they are showing too much of anything! Some might even consider their lack of “decorum” part of their charm.........think again Old Man!

So I’m back to me and the “age appropriate” wardrobe thing. And I still haven’t decided which way to go. And like I said, it is not the biggest issue on my mind. I do lead a full life. I read, I exercise, I garden. And I spend the most time with my grandchildren that I possibly can.

Come to think of it though, going over to my daughter’s house recently sort of brought this all to the forefront.

While I was in her driveway getting out of my car, I hear my little grandson yelling “my grama’s here, my grama’s here”. Then I see him running out the iron gates stark naked! Free as a bird! Ahh......to be 2 again. Not that I remember being 2. But just the simplicity of it all is what grabbed me.

Just how is this aging thing supposed to work anyhow? Is it considered more admirable to grow old gracefully? Or do I want to go down fighting? I can’t seem to make up my mind.

But until I do, and depending on how I feel on a given day, I might leave the house in a boat necked “three quarter length sleeve” top. And the next day, a plunging V necked “sleeveless” Tee.

Because this is America, and last I heard, we still have the right to Bare Arms,

(dimpled or not).

The Getaway Girls

The Getaway Girls

Recently I took time out of my regular routine to spend a long weekend with two of my dearest friends. This is something we've tried to do at least once a year for almost ten now. It is a “girls only” event and something I really look forward to.

Because the three of us live in opposite directions, we meet at a place that is equal driving distance for us all. It also happens to be near one of the largest Outlet Malls in Southern California.....Go Figure!

As always, a few days before leaving town, I start preparing for my trip. This includes preparing my “husband” for my trip. Because as much as he likes to think he manages very well on his own, I am 100% sure he doesn't have a clue as to what goes into creating that impression.

Refrigerator and pantry stocked with food, junk and hearty ....yes

Clean laundry at his fingertips.... yes

List of phone numbers pinned on bulletin board.... yes

Dog's routine written out, (with reminder to refresh water daily.)...yes

Okay, after packing the car and saying my goodbyes, I am ready to hit the road. I have a two hour drive before meeting up with my “peeps”.

This word I borrowed from my grown children's vernacular because it seems to fit right in with the spirit of things.

After all, this weekend is all about keeping it simple, uncomplicated, and recapturing the carefree attitude of our youth.

On the agenda.....

To laugh till our stomachs ache, and eat. To purge whatever ails us, and eat. To shop till we drop, and eat.

No examples to set, no wisdom to spew. Just me and my precious friends who make me smile, and allow me to be nothing more than who I am.

Finally, I'm in my car. Seat belt buckled, bottled water within reach, phone set for hands free. A few quick turns, and I'm on my way!

As always, I tune the radio to a Classic Oldies station and turn up the volume. Nobody here to complain about that, or my singing.

First song I hear is from the 60's. Here we go. A time when I was single, slim, and sexy... or at least that's the way I remember it.

But as I'm singing and bopping along with the music, (proud of myself for remembering most of the words), I catch a glimpse of two baby car seats in the rear view mirror.

Yes, I am a grandma. And I am in my 60's. But I really don't feel much differently now than how I remember feeling at 16!

And I suspect I'm not the only old gal out there experiencing this same mind and body “disconnect”.

So the singing and bopping continue!

Because it is a long drive and I am alone, my mind starts to wander back home and to all the little “dramas” going on there. It is almost as if my “baggage” clicked out it's wheels, attached itself to my car, and is now trying to hitch a ride to my party.

No way, No how, am I letting that happen!

Because if I have learned anything after all these years, and all these getaways, it is that there is nothing more therapeutic than a weekend with my friends. These women who would defend my honor to the death (even if I am wrong). Insist my ass does not look huge in those pants (even if it does). And cry along with me when I share a secret that weighs heavy on my heart.

As I turn into the hotel, I see that I am the last to arrive. My two friends are sitting on the veranda watching my approach. One friend waving her hands over her head and dancing a little jig. The other one looking over at her like she is nuts. And me, smiling from ear to ear, looking back at them....

“Let the healing begin”!

Dedicated to my dear friends, Kathy and Dianne