Mirror Mirror on the Wall, I am a Thousand Years Older After All

It’s happened.  I’m old.  Maybe not by calendar years, but it’s as true as the sun rising tomorrow.  Childhood left me many years ago, or perhaps, I left my childhood.  But this is different.  This is the loss of my youth, my youthfulness.  

My reflection peered back at me from the bathroom mirror at my 80’s style office building complete with security badge and leather briefcase.  My reflection grayer.  Not only does my skin seem grayer, but for the first time in my life, I saw more than one gray hair.  It’s well earned, I presume.  The gray streaks that hide themselves nicely among my brown and blonde pelt.  These I can only guess were gathered from the inevitable wear and tear of walking with my father down a path that inevitably lead to my feeling of half-orphan-hood now.

I can’t help but wonder if I have now crossed over to some level of undesirability.  If I have somehow managed to accrue enough baggage (and resulting grays) to make any potential future partner shy away from the level of complexity in my life.  I do not desire or wish for a savior.  I would scoff at anyone who spent one moment trying to coddle me.  But the loss of my father has left me feeling more alone than I ever have in my life.  I wonder if anyone will ever understand me so clearly again, just by the sound of my breath.  Or me understand them by the sound of theirs.  It is an immeasurable loss, masked by brave faces, and the resilient desire to carry on.

I’m not sure how long it takes for joy to come so easily again after a loss like this.  I hope that day will arrive.  I know my dad would want it too; I just miss him so much.  Love you Daddy, always.

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4 thoughts on “Mirror Mirror on the Wall, I am a Thousand Years Older After All

  1. Bonnie, grief does have an affect on every part of us, including our appearance, but it’s temporary. Other grief symptoms you might experience are short term memory disruptions, disorganization, fatigue, inability to concentrate, and depression, which I fear you may be experiencing. A loss such as you have experienced takes longer to recover from than surgery. The next year will have its difficulties, but I promise that you will smile again and mean it.
    I’ve been where you are. If you need a grief companion or someone to talk to now and then, email me and I’ll send you my phone number. You can find my email address by going to your dashboard and clicking on “manage comments”.
    ((((((((Bonnie))))))). <——-that's a hug.

    Jane

    • Hi Jane,
      I do appreciate your support and kind words. I do, however, want to express some concerns with this comment. This is a life long concern of mine, but I do think it is dangerous to use pop-culture diagnoses if you haven’t been trained in them. Much of the correct language is used here, but I don’t think it’s appropriate to label people based on some personal paragraphs they write down to maintain their strength while going through a difficult journey. This can discourage some people, as who wants to be labeled. And it also doesn’t account for the full spectrum of their life. Disorganization, very inappropriate for this little type A. Inability to concentrate, I just explained complex mathematics for 50 hours last week so we could meet a deadline to advise the UN and several private foundations on how to not kill mothers and babies in Africa.
      I do completely take your comment as support and love shared, as I completely believe this is the way it is intended. But for other people floating on the internet, please be careful how you describe them and their experiences as they go through loss and grief. I really think it is best left to a personal relationship, complete with bi-directional dialogue, between a counselor and his or her client.

  2. Grieving… My dad was 96 so we knew he would be leaving us soon. It was still hard and I grieved. I still miss him and it’s been almost seven years. But now my sister, so beautiful, vibrant, active, is suddenly gone. Sometimes I almost lose my breath in my grief. All this to say I know what you’re saying and going through. You are in my prayers.

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