Time makes changes to us all
There’s a song that includes a line that goes something like, “Time has made a change in me.” My husband often sings it. Every time I hear it, I think how true those words are.
When I was young, I never gave a second thought to cure-alls for aching feet, vitamins to keep one healthy, creams to keep the skin young, dishwashing liquid with an added ingredient to prevent “rough, red, dishwater hands,” or instruments to improve one’s hearing. Maybe I should have.
As the years raced by, something happened to the mirrors in our house and the clothes in my closet. The mirrors are so out of whack that they place added pounds on my body. Something in that closet made my clothes shrink. As I struggle to fit into some of my clothes, my waist disappears.
For years and years, I took only a minute or two to apply make-up to my face and put on my lipstick. These days my bathroom mirror keeps playing tricks on me, too. No matter how much time I take dabbing concealer over my imperfections before I pat on my make-up, wrinkles keep appearing on my face in that mirror.
Too, my most treasured dress shoes feel as if they were bought for someone else. I’ve pushed them aside for “sensible shoes” that I think look awful but feel wonderful. I haven’t forgotten how many times I came home from work with my feet feeling like bricks of burning flesh. I thumbed through an almanac the other day and an advertisement caught my eye. “End the pain and misery of tired and aching feet,” it screamed in bold letters. “I have,” I smirked, as I flipped the page, ignoring the product the ad promoted.
A few pages past that I saw an advertisement for a product promising to get rid of stomach agony. It was complete with drawings of the kidney, liver and stomach and problems that confront them. Gotcha again, I thought, as I glanced over at the bag containing all my prescriptions.
Then there was a hearing aid gimmick for a very cheap price. That just wouldn’t work for me, I sighed, and fingered the electronic gadget hanging around my neck. It controls the volume of my hearing aid and hooks up to my cell phone, landline telephone and television set so I can hear them better.
Recently my husband had a book signing at the Lillian United Methodist Church, where he was the minister from 1981 until 1994. Several friends didn’t recognize me because my hair was black when we left there 15 years ago. Today it’s grey.
I think of my impressions when we attended my 50-year high school reunion. Everyone had changed. The boys I considered handsome during our school days were just aging, ordinary-looking men. The prettiest girls back then had turned into mature women who had added a few pounds and some wrinkles on their faces.
Yes, time makes changes in us all.