When Less is More

At what age did you first notice you were losing your “looks”? For me it was my middle fifties. I got up one morning and while in the mirror it hit me I was beginning to look much different. At first it bothered me, this was a stage in life I had never thought about nor discussed with anyone. I don’t refer to it as losing looks, I say “changing looks” and I don’t mind it much, I’ve earned it. Someone in my life journey once made a comment regarding older women and trying to enhance their looks with makeup, saying “ less is more.” 

 My adult son laughed yesterday seeing me pull out an electric shaver and attending to the fuzz on my chin and upper lip. My hair color is fading and I now sport an interesting grey stripe over my forehead as of two years ago. My mind is interpreting that phrase “less is more” differently. Less skin tone, less hair where it should be and more hair where it doesn’t belong for starters. Between my spouse and myself we have nine grandchildren. My glass is half full not half empty, all that matters is I’m thankful to still be here and be able to experience the autumn of my life.

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