Let the hands do the talking…

1 Dec

My mum has always said you can tell the age of someone by their hands.

Bombarded with advertisements instructing us to dab the cream, sponge the serum or massage the gel…all promising to reverse the effects of aging and ‘wind back the years’.

Forget the multiple chins, cankles and canteen-lady arms….think prominent veins, knobbly knuckles and saggy skin, all located….on your hands.

Trust me. Preserve your hands or just wear gloves. Hands reveal all.

Marcel Marceau, Mickey Mouse and Michael Jackson knew.  The old ladies who wear white driving gloves know. Now, you know too.

* * *

At the age of 24 years, I am aware of what I will face in the short future-  memories of losing my first tooth, identifying my first ‘curly’ hair down there and recognising my shapely ‘hips’ will inevitably be replaced by memories of sighting my first gray hair, the need to use my high-waisted skirt as extra breast support and the realization that I can use my bum to sweep the floor behind me…I guess it ultimately comes down to  how we decide to acknowledge & react to these bodily changes.

Wrinkles and ageing is symbolic of experience, wisdom and life. I do admit that at this point in my life it is easy to make grand sweeping statements like this…and yes, maybe in 20 years I will resemble an ‘indian-fied’ Pamela Anderson…but for now I vow to age gracefully.

Face it or leave it. That is my opinion.

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