Creative writing submission from the Rest Less community – submit your entry here.
I’m 67. I shock myself when I say it out loud. The face in the mirror may be in its 60s – 50s on a good day – but inside I’m still 20.
Only my body tells me I’m not. It’s a bit like having a child when each phase takes you by surprise. You realise the baby has more control when it rolls off the changing table or your son stops chatting freely to you because he can now drive himself to school.
The phases now are various ailments which creep up on you and, not surprisingly, you don’t bounce back.
My mind is still lively and I think I show more interest in people than they do in me – that’s not new. Most people are incredibly self-absorbed.
I’ll chat to anyone and am genuinely interested in people. Some would class that as old lady bonkers.
It’s sometimes hard to be positive. When I wake up I immediately think: what hurts? Or about the various regimes that involve teeth, back, and womb (the latest are pelvic floor exercises while singing). A bit like rubbing your tummy and patting your head but it’s about moving the diaphragm.
I just do as I’m told because I want to keep moving, preferably around the local nature reserve, and not in a wheelchair.
I seem to have so many things wrong with me sometimes I think I’ll wake up one day and find my ears on the pillow.
But I do try and feel grateful for what I’ve got: a loving if long-suffering husband, a son who told me he wouldn’t forget me as he ‘knew where I lived’ but told me off for sending too many ‘random’ texts. Apparently, me holding a python around my neck and wearing a moustache for a Mexican evening weren’t interesting enough to send. I need to be more selective.
I have good friends and live in a lovely area and home.
It’s just that I’m slowing down. I have to pace myself. I sometimes wonder where the original me has gone.
I look in the mirror and remember the journalist who got lost on a dodgy estate looking for a meeting on rape or the incredible people I met. I remember the tall party I accidentally went to in America. I’m 5ft 2 and a half!
And I try and think about those who are much worse off than me. Of course, it’s relative and all about attitude. I need to give mine a bit of a polish.
Are you feeling creative? We are proud to have a hugely talented community on Rest Less, which is why we’re so excited to open up a section of the site dedicated to showcasing the wonderful and diverse writing of our members. If you have a piece of creative writing that you’d like to share with the Rest Less community – you can do so here.