"I'd rather be hurt than fat," she says, looking down at the cast on her arm, evidence of her commitment to those words.
She is in her 60s, but you would never guess.
I am in my 30s and look on as she eats her kale and chicken and refuses the cookie I've already bitten into.
As I watch her I look into a crystal ball. I see my future too. Kale and chicken and casts.
She responds to my incredulity about her age by sharing her secret, kale and chicken, of course, and running, even in the rain (that's how she got the cast when a car did not see her), but also laser peels for the face and neck and hands. They hurt and you look like hell for a couple of days, but he's 48 and fit and she doesn't want to be traded in for a newer model.
I cringe,
maybe because it's true,
but probably because I believe it.
And the cookie is a stone in my throat.
I do the math in my head, it's either hurt or fat and my relevance depends on the wrinkles on my face, the age spots on my hands and the size of dress I can fit in. How expensive are peels?
How hungry will I be the rest of my life?
My mind rejects the simplicity of the equation and cries out,
"What of wisdom, tenderness, patience, intellect, hard-work, integrity, kindness?"
No matter how I do the calculations it's a zero sum game.
She's my mentor, only in a professional capacity. But as my own mother rejected reason and relating in favor of the safety of delusion
when I was too young to know the difference,
I lap up the wisdom of women whenever it is offered.
And if she were the only one to have told me this, I would divide her words by a few grains of salt and change the quotient.
But deep in my gut, alongside the cookie, I know she's right and that the crystal ball here is not mere illusion. Today I have seen my future and my heart broke
just a little...
more....
Tired from the mental math, and the long and painful decades that await,
I turn my attention to my own
chicken and kale...
chewing slowly and thoughtfully, knowing this bite is the difference between being loved and being irrelevant.
Hoping this bite will inoculate me from obsolescence.
Since sharing Annie’s story a couple of weeks ago, I have thought more and more about sharing other writer’s voices. This is one of them. I love it for so many reasons, and I think that sharing it this week…as women and women’s bodies are in the crosshairs of the Supreme Court…it is most appropriate. Thank you for your voice, Kolette.
Eating my veggies here and trying not to watch the clock too closely. 😊