Reflections in the Mirror

I had an Aunt who was outspoken and crazy.  She was a “take me or leave me” type of gal, and when she didn’t like you — oh, you knew it.  She spoke her mind at all times, even inappropriate ones.  She could pretty much piss off  Mother Theresa… or take a Hell’s Angel to task.  She was not well liked by much of her family, but I liked her a lot.   My thought was always, “That’s just how she is”, and I accepted her quirks and off the cuff remarks because really, aside from all that, she was my Aunt.

It seemed that as her body aged, she retained her youth in attitude, which I always thought was pretty cool.  I watched her at age 80something in her hospital bed, flirting with the male doctors as if she was in her 20′s.  Oh, she wasn’t losing her mind!  She was still sharp as a tack and knew exactly what she was doing, and I watched the twinkle in her eye as he lifted her gown slightly to listen to her chest.  She was still proud of her body’s appearance even though outwardly she was wrinkly and displayed a huge scar from open heart surgery.  In her 80′s she still viewed herself as sexy.  I’m not even sure she realized she was aging until she was on her deathbed.

What a remarkable thing — to be able to maintain youth and vitality as if outward appearance bears no consideration to the mind.  To look in the mirror and see not wrinkles, but the vibrancy of the inner being.  As I look at my own body, I don’t see myself aging.  Of course when I look back on old photos I see it, but day to day — I don’t see it at all.  I think this is a gift; I don’t ever want there to come a day when I gaze into a mirror and dread a new wrinkle, or long for yesteryear.  As I celebrate my 47th birthday, I ponder the thought that at age 80something, I’ll still give a young stud a thrill… even if it’s only in my aged mind.