Getting Old 'Ain't No Crime... - Lung Conditions C...

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Getting Old 'Ain't No Crime...

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I've been thinking about naked women today...naked ladies with saggy bits and stretch marks on their bellies and those fine blue veins that appear from nowhere to decorate your bosoms...

Flabby upper arms and flat bottoms...the one long black hair that grows from your shin and the hair that no longer grows in your armpits...turning your head in the mirror and seeing the beginnings of a beard...eyebrows plucked to virtual oblivion as a twenty something, now refuse to grow at all and require liberal applications of an expensive cosmetic crayon...the unmitigated horror of pubic hair turning grey...thighs that are now round your knees and wobble when you move...

But aren't we the lucky ones? We don't put ourselves through strict exercise regimes with a personal trainer who makes us do sixty press-ups before a breakfast of two prunes and an omelette of egg whites...

We don't have to go to the beauty salon to have our eyebrows woven or our nether regions waxed...can't imagine anything worse actually... makes me clench my bottom just thinking about it...we don't have slinky designer clothes to squeeze our wobbly bits into...we can wear comfy trousers with an elastic waist and a cuddly jumper we've nicked from our husbands drawer...

Sort through the knickers in the lingerie department and choose the ones that come in a pack of five and are called 'full briefs' rather than the scraps of lace which pass as knickers to those under thirty and cost twice as much as ours.

It is we who have warm and friendly smiles because we couldn't give a fig about laughter lines round our eyes and mouths...we are the ones who love a glass of wine and pick out all the strawberry crèmes in a box of chocolates...we tell slightly off-colour jokes and laugh until there are tears pouring down our faces and we feel slightly sick...

None of us gives a rats arse about the careers we once had because we live for today not for the next promotion or lunch taken at our desks...no need to flirt with the manager anymore...him with his comb-over and moist hands...

We should relish growing older...we've survived peculiar childhoods...weird husbands...weirder children...time for us now.

33 Replies

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redted9 years ago

We should not regret growing old,as it is a priviledge denied to many, so enjoy every day,live like someone left the gate open.

newlands9 years ago

Oh Vashti oh so true ,we can say what we want when we want to who we want

sassy599 years ago

Too right vashti, let's wave a flag for older people. It takes a lot to be where we are now so let's embrace age.

Anyone who moans about old people, and many do, needs to remember nobody grows younger....

Great post again vashti.

Xxxx

clematis59329 years ago

Didn't realise I had sent you a photo of me recently, all six stone three of me. This is so me, just going to have a coffee and a bar of dairy milk now.

hufferpuffer9 years ago

Hahaha Vashti, tickled pink by your take on maturing and now I'm sadly pondering losing bladder control and the odd tooth! 😂still as long as I keep my marbles I'm not too worried about being half deaf and my eyes getting dimmer by the day , skin tags , freaking freak hairs, age spots, veiny, wrinkled hands, silver hair,baggy knickers, memory loss,not really 😲really!😮sob!😂

Snodgrass9 years ago

At least growing old beats the alternative!

ruthhealy9 years ago

So true xxx

ruthhealy• in reply toruthhealy9 years ago

Just to let you know that my beloved husband of 43 years, Pat died yesterday at noon. I am just numb. Pulmonary fibrosis is a terrible disease. He fought hard to stay but he was just too weak. Bye for now xxx

knitter• in reply toruthhealy9 years ago

Dear Ruth, just to say I am so sorry to hear about your husband.

• in reply toruthhealy9 years ago

So sorry to hear your sad news Ruth thinking of you take care xx

LyndaH49• in reply toruthhealy9 years ago

My heart breaks for you. I lost my husband after 41 years to pancreatic cancer a few years ago. I am new to this site and disease. I am 66 years old, female, and 3 weeks ago I was diagnosed with interstitial lung disease UIP. I have so many difficult questions to ask someone, what are the end days like, do you go to hospice or a nursing home, is breathing harder at the end? I don't know if you'll ever be at a point or you would feel comfortable answering these questions but if you are it would help setting my expectations for the end of my life. Again, I am so sorry! I will keep you in my prayers.

Sincerely, Lynda

clematis5932• in reply toLyndaH499 years ago

Lynda Sorry to here your news, why don't you put your last reply up as a post of your own, I am sure you will get a lot more replies to your questions this way. I can not help you but I am sure there will be someone who can point you in the right direction.

• in reply toruthhealy9 years ago

Dear Ruth,

I feel for you at this terrible awful time. I hope you have family around you to grieve with you and share a little of your burden. It's all so hard to bear, to believe, and such a long time together.

Take a little comfort, and my hand.

Jennifer

freefaller9 years ago

So very true

Magpuss9 years ago

Love that vashti - and yes we are lucky!

scorpiolass9 years ago

Not only grey but sparse. X

snappy19 years ago

well said Vashti, I want to be a proper nana, not one who can't splash in puddles or get my hands dirty. Life's to short to be plucked and preened, I know who I would rather spend time with.

Towse19509 years ago

That's my sentiments exactly....good on you and me too. Audrey, Jersey

droneb9 years ago

Quite brilliant! Thank you now feel ready to face the world. You are of course bang on with your observations. As a man I have slightly different aspects of youth to reflect on but floppy flabby and flat bits affect us all and hairy ears nose and eyebrows what's the point of them lol

maggiemay3479 years ago

Love it vashti. Describes us perfectly. Only I still like the fancy knickers. Sexy thing. Haha. Maggie x

Tee10089 years ago

Spot on, Vashti! I remember that manager with the moist hands and comb-over...did we work in the same place??

Tee x

• in reply toTee10089 years ago

What about the one who used to get so close you thought he was going to gobble you up as his breathing got hotter and harsher. It never occurred to me to use my knee.

Tee1008• in reply to9 years ago

Ha ha ha...yes, him too!! Nowadays, it would probably result in an industrial tribunal!

• in reply toTee10089 years ago

Girls are so strong now - men don't stand a chance - not that sort of man anyway.

Dragonmum9 years ago

Was looking at my hands and thinking how ugly they were, blue veins and liver spots and lumpyish knuckles; then I thought of all the things they have done over so many decades.Typed a million words, cleaned a king's ransome of silver brass and copper, prepared enough meals to feed regiments, scrubbed loos and floors that would cover the UK, held the hands of others in deep friendship and caressed some who were far more than friends. They have turned pillows cool side up for little feverish heads and closed the eyes of a beloved grandmother who had entered her last sleep. I thought "You are not ugly, you just wear your long service medals" - and I kissed them.

clematis5932• in reply toDragonmum9 years ago

Dragonmum You should be so proud of yourself, how beautiful was that reply.

• in reply toDragonmum9 years ago

Never a truer word and all done with love and without question.

Tee1008• in reply toDragonmum9 years ago

How touching and beautifully descriptive, Dragonmum. Well said!

Tee x

• in reply toDragonmum9 years ago

Dragonmum...that is absolutely lovely...and so, so true. Bless you xxx

bayleyray-uk• in reply toDragonmum9 years ago

Thanks Dragonmum

So very true.

Sue

9 years ago

We do, we do vashti......You always give us plenty to ROFL about - every bit of Blobbyness, every tramline, every new bruise on the arms (now how did that one come about?) widening partings on the head of babyfine hair, every sudden sneeze dictating a race for the lavatory. You have me in stitches - on living with ourselves, and it's all ours, we made us as we are, worked for it, and well earned too. Who cares a jot? Not I.