Allies In Aging, Or Kindness To The Body, Or Loveliness In Old Age

As my parents grew older, they became rather fond of small scissors. Both of them at various times asked me to get some from the market, or the US. I wondered why. Dad was a good Sikh and I don’t believe he cut a hair in his life; my mother, too, though she is fond of plucking and preening, had no use for them in her grooming. It is only recently, after turning 66 myself, that I know why.
I have always torn packaging, even plastic ones, with my hands, impatiently ripping it open.  I have used my teeth too, though Payson has always thought me quite a jungly for doing so – his mother was a dentist.
Now things have changed. My wrists have been hurting lately and my fingers, too. I find scissors, especially small ones, very handy and have put several on my Wish List for when I return from New York and can receive mail again. I think of them as my allies.
ALLIES, ah yes, allies. Implements that make the task easier and make up for old age are allies. Good knives in the kitchen, Playtex gloves to wash dishes to keep aging hands from drying out, good grip can openers, which I also intend to order, good pruners for the garden, smaller watering cans so I don’t have to lift heavier ones, stools to sit upon as I pack or weed. Comfortable boots, clothing that is not tight, hearing aids, good glasses, good creams that moisten my hands and lips. I have discovered Shea butter, which I adore. I ordered a slab of raw Shea butter over a year or two ago, thinking I would make it into a cream. But laziness and lack of time made me finally just chip off a piece of it. It melted with my touch and I found I could use it raw by warming it in my hands and applying it to my face, too, and my hair.
I no longer use any of the expensive leather handbags I own and which I have loved, but travel with a very light rip-stop nylon backpack that has practically no weight of its own: no heavy leather, metal or clasps. It is so lightweight that I can fill it with all the things I need and it still feels like air. Convenience and comfort, kindness to my body takes precedence over appearance now. 
Appearance not withstanding, I still feel great about my self and feel I am lovelier now, inside and out, than I have ever been before. 

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I don’t know what I was thinking when I said to Payson, “Yes! Let’s go to New York in December!” I commend my adventurousness and youthful folly, I mean it, because I was getting quite sedentary in my ways, unwilling to travel.

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