Marriage Moats-Fraying at the Edges

Published: Tue, 04/12/22

Fraying at the Edges

Caring for Marriage

The other day I saw John at a distance and was surprised to see how gray his hair is. He looks, well older than I remember.

Then I glanced in the mirror and noticed than I am resembling my mother more than I want to admit. Hmm.. I guess I am old too.

I am not into false advertising. The truth is, we are both in our sixties. That may not be exactly old old but it is definitely not young.

Thirty two years ago a friend treated me to a haircut by Cristophe in Beverly Hills. My daughter Hosanna was a newborn and I brought her along. She nestled safely in my arms for the two hour appointment which included: the consult as he barked orders to several glamorous attendants, the shampoo in a glitzy sink, the Cut with clinking shears, another frothy shampoo, a cool drink while yet another gorgeous person blew my hair dry, and ample time to gaze at the other people who routinely get expensive hair cuts.

My central thought was that I did not want to pretend I was something besides a mother with five children. It was decadent to visit another world where looks matter more than almost anything, but I was content to return to my unrenowned family.

Three decades have done even more to fray me around the edges. Mercifully the wrinkles come gradually, the time it takes to ascend the stairs increases imperceptibly. When the music starts my hubby and I are more likely to waltz than to swing.

Advanced age may not win the adoration of the media, but it has increased in value to me. There is something irreplaceable about experience, and the wisdom that cannot be bought by any currency but time.

Love,
Lori

Photo by Jenny Stein

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