Senior moments. You know that expression, don’t you? It’s generally used, flippantly, to refer to a momentary lapse in memory, frequently when trying to recall the name of a person or a place, or possibly a movie you’ve seen or a book you’ve read.
Now, these momentary experiences of forgetfulness are quite common long before we are “technically” considered seniors. However…
I’ve had a few senior moments lately that are of a different sort. And one of those moments involved a trip to my local department store to pick up a few things before the holidays, and a brief stop at the perfume counter to score a quick spritz of my favorite fragrance on my wrist – a requirement (I told myself) to continue what was becoming a more tiring day of errands than originally anticipated. (Haven’t you ever noticed how a favorite aroma can perk you up?)
While standing at the counter (and breathing in my newly refreshed wrist — my, but the nose knows the power of perfume), I began chatting with the saleswoman parked behind Chanel Number 5 and its friends. She was a smallish woman with a pleasantly lined face, a warm smile, dark eyes, and medium brown hair. Her makeup was light — a touch of liner and coral-tone lipstick. She was impeccably dressed and her accessories – pretty pearl earrings, two fine chain necklaces, and a sparkling brooch on her sweater — were especially lovely. I put her at around 65 years old.
She was easy to chat with and skilled at the sort of banter that comes with a career in retail (I presumed), and as we talked, the subjects of age and aging came up.
This is hardly a surprise when milling about perfume or makeup counters and finding a woman “of a certain age,“ particularly when you are yourself fully aware that your senior moments aren’t too far off… Senior moments of the forgetfulness sort or chronological age!
But color me gobsmacked when she told me she was 79. I was stunned. I was silent. I didn’t realize I was gaping until she said to me “your mouth is open.“ She laughed.
“Excuse me? How old did you say?” I asked. She laughed again and repeated “79.”
I was astonished, but I suddenly felt cheered and encouraged — cheered and encouraged because it was clear she hadn’t been nipped or tucked or filled or Botoxed. Instead, the life she had lived and was still leading with her husband of many decades was evident on her face, a face that reflected a woman 10 to 15 years younger.
Not only did her face express that younger age, but she seemed to define aging gracefully in an inexplicable ease that she exuded. And the very fact that she was dealing with the public and working a job – a job she works part-time during the holidays after four decades in retail – was an extraordinary senior moment for yours truly.
For the women “of a certain age” or those of us able to see a milestone birthday coming up in the next few years (whatever that significant milestone may be), a serendipitous encounter like this is a pleasant surprise.
For me, un“filled“ and unBotoxed, unnipped and untucked, I can feel discouraged when the face that stares back in the mirror seems less and less recognizable. On the other hand, I am very much encouraged when I meet someone, even briefly, who is setting aside those concerns and living life in the present — as she is. (No doubt, my openness to her positive vibes was enhanced by fragrance.)
Sure, 15 minutes of schmoozing with a stranger doesn’t reveal more than impressions. And the apparent stability in her life (home, husband, children, grandchildren, health care) doesn’t resemble mine or possibly yours. Nonetheless, those 15 minutes were noteworthy.
Speaking of health care, the conversation turned to lower back pain — hers, which is very similar to my own chronic condition — and I inquired about how she manages a job that has her standing all day.
At age 79, she is enrolled in Medicare, which includes pain management coverage and a number of physical therapy and other rehabilitative sessions that I do not have access to. This, as in previous years, because I am not yet of the age to avail myself of Medicare. This point was driven home only days before these errands as I enrolled once again in health insurance coverage through the “marketplace” as an independent worker.
As usual, I was startled by the paucity of rational choices, the rising prices, and by the number of necessary services that are simply not covered, pain management among them. This is one more reason, strangely, or perhaps not so strangely, to hope for the strength, the stamina, and the stubbornness to power through certain physical (and financial) realities until those services are available to me, even though they come with a chronological age they can be as frightening as a few more lines on my face.
Discussion of the absurdity of non-outcome-related health care in the U.S. aside, my perfume counter chat is a reminder to compare myself not to the woman I was 10 years ago (or five or even three), but to put more effort into appreciating who and where I am now. It isn’t easy for any number of reasons — I’m willing to admit that — but nor is it impossible.
This sort of senior moment is one I need more often. The trick, no doubt, is to get out and engage. Connection, along with perfume of course, just may be the answer to that pesky “aging gracefully” question.
Any interesting senior moments you’ve experienced lately? Are you chasing your own fountain of youth? Do you find that socializing or other interpersonal connections – with a dab of fragrance — are good for you?
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Oh, I love this story, DA. And kudos to the retailer who makes it worth her while for your new friend to come back part time to a job she obviously does well. I have a friend who would like to partially retire. She works in retail. She has many loyal customers, including me. But her employer insists upon applying the same constraints to her schedule as they do to the newbies. That is so short sighted in my view. If they let my friend work three days a week, she’d be happy. Most of her longtime clients would arrange to visit her on those days. She’d become the most valuable part-timer they ever had! Instead she’s well on her way to exhaustion and burn-out and is tempted to just walk away from her job altogether.
But I am digressing… as I am wont to do.
Sending you hugs and seasonal felicitations. xo
You are so right about part-time work, which (methinks) can be especially grueling in retail given the need to deal with the public AND stand for most of the day! Then again, flexible part-time work would be a win-win in many industries and organization types. (Sigh)
And holiday greetings to you, too, Sue. Wishing you a not-too-frigid season! ☃️❄️?
I had a similar moment of gobsmackery when I learned the age of our next door neighbor. He’s about twenty years older, but certainly doesn’t look or act like it. I would have guessed he had ten years on me, at most. I’m sure he’s less active than he used to be, but to outward appearances he’s doing fine.
I don’t know his complete life story, but as you suggest, it has seemed essentially free of the major life changing events that are routinely referenced as major stressors – family death, divorce or marital strife, major physical or mental illness, unemployment, etc.
Interesting point you make about appreciating who we are now. That can be worthwhile. And scary. I’ve been trying to decide if my current state is a temporary dip, or the high point of a continuous future decline. Aging isn’t for lightweights….
Yikes. “The high point of a continuous future decline.” That’s a stunning phrase, Robert. And I hear you.
I loved this story because at 70, I have not, and will not, do anything to my face. It’s not that I wouldn’t like to see if Botox would help, but I’m allergic to most everything, and my doctors are hesitant to give me anything. I’ve also seen, firsthand, a woman who collapsed and nearly died after getting a free Botox injection at a conference. She was allergic to it. A couple of weeks ago I worked alongside a friend from Italy who was here for a trunk show of her beautiful jewelry. Over a three day period there was a steady stream of women of a certain age… some I knew before they’d f&ck#d with their faces. It was a sad commentary on how far we’ll go to hang on to our youth. No thank you! xoxox, B
All of the ostensibly “vain” reasons aside for wishing to turn back the clock a few years in terms of appearance, I agree with you, Brenda. What is unfortunate to my mind is the way the “norm” as presented in media of many sorts is the lifted-tightened-smoothed-filled versions of what women (especially) should look like. And not just women beginning to show their age! This is particularly concerning when still required to compete in the job marketplace against younger candidates.
I have certainly seen and known women who have been very happy with “tweaks” — I get it! — some so beautifully done you would never know, which is great, right? And much depends on how we are aging (some of us look angry or harsh, others just look softened).
The bottom line, of course — these are individual decisions although contemporary culture seems to be exerting pressure in one specific (youth-simulating) direction. But I did find it wonderful to encounter a gloriously lined face with so much warmth and energy.
I think that last line sums it up – real beauty comes from deep within, not from the surface.