A quick little low carb and calorie recipe for a smoothie I made the other night. 1 sliced up cucumber 1 bag of frozen organic strawberries 2 cups strawberry low fat yogurt OR 1 banana and 1 cup Orange juice … Continue reading
When was the last time my feet had touched the ground? Like, the real ground? Dirt? It had been two weeks at least. Maybe three. So I wandered out to the garden, barefooted and spirit trapped within its own internal … Continue reading
It’s like everything runs into the earth when I lay on it. All the worry. All the pain. All the anxiety. Just laying in the grass, with the sunshine warming my skin and hearing the life happen around me. The … Continue reading
“So, I noticed you’re getting fat…” Really? You couldn’t have said it nicer? You’re a medical physician. A specialist. Yes, I’ve gained weight, but seriously, 150 lbs is not that bad a weight for someone 5’4″ much less a diabetic … Continue reading
At first I had thought it was a smudge of something on my hand, but upon several attempts to wash it off and a moment of staring stupidly at its resilience, I realized what it really was.
It was an age spot. My very first age spot.
It’s a very faint light brown color, just like my mothers had started, and of course on the very same hand, just like her mother before her. I recalled when I first noticed my mothers hands changing and I recalled how my grandmothers hands changed too from my mothers account. Now it’s my turn and I’ve got it where they all seemed to have theirs start. Dead center on my left hand…only a faint shade of discoloration and half the size of a dime. Kinda shaped like the silhouette of that famous image of the Lochness monster.
It’s strange to think about getting age spots, since I’m only 27. Still, it isn’t a surprise either. I’ve been fortunate enough to have clear skin, few breakouts, and decent coloration most of my life and I’m sure it has run its course by now. My health isn’t all it could be. Diabetes is no laughing matter and has a habit of taking its toll on skin. It was only a matter of time before they would form. My grandmother’s started around the time she turned 35. My mother in her 30s. Both of them started out this way, on this hand, in a very faint shade of brown. My grandmothers had turned very dark blackish brown when she turned 60 which sent her to consult a physician only to find out it was nothing more than an ugly colored age spot. My mothers darkened, but not unattractively, when she turned 55 and has not changed much since. I only hope to be so lucky.
The reality of growing old strikes unexpectedly, and as I look in the mirror I find I haven’t really noticed my aging ever, and other than this age spot, I still don’t. I still have a very childlike round face and big eyes. My skin is still fair. My hair is still curly as ever and still it’s same color. Not much feels like it has changed, and yet emotionally I’m reminded that I am so much older than I once was. I know so much more. I’ve experienced so much more. I have witnessed so much more.
And there is still so much more to do.
I was never this way before. I didn’t start having panic attacks until I was in college. Ever since then I feel like I’ve had them regularly for a few years. Medications don’t seem to help. In fact they make … Continue reading
“Do you ever have moments where you feel like your perspective of faith inhibits you from taking care of yourself?” “I can’t say that I have. Why do you?” He responded groggily and slightly muffled by his pillow as he … Continue reading
Mom, You told me “I think you lean on that label as a crutch. I don’t ever recall you being an introvert as a child.” So you think I use it as a crutch? That’s fine. That’s fair. I do … Continue reading
“What are you doing?” “I don’t even know anymore.”
I saw that she had tried to call me, about 15 min after we were supposed to speak. I had planned and reschedule on her already for our phone call, but once again, my brain failed me. Continue reading