Letters of Life

Facing The Truth

It has come to this, that I am advancing toward a slippery slope.

In like manner does life mimic a playground. In a playground, the slide is one of the most popular playthings, and in life, it can be a joyride, a sleighride, or a beginning in which there is no end.

The slippery slope was a visit this morning to an aesthetic doctor.

I’ve lived with freckles all my life. I’ve squandered many youthful hours in the sun, and that’s just the way life should be lived. The number of days in the sun only ramps up with the arrival of children.

It’s not the freckles, anyway, that bothers. It’s the other things.

Back to the aesthetic doctor. She has grownup children, but she looks only a few years older than me. That’s about the best referral one can get—advertising by word of face.

She talked about sunscreen, peels, and fillers. I kept looking at her face and wanting her tanned, smooth, spotless skin.

She was selling me the dream. I bought it, and it helps that I get a very very friendly discount.

Later, Andre was amused. His amusement was like that of an adult watching a child discover the wonderful world of Lego for the first time. Lego’s slogan, by the way, is “Play on . . . ”

In this case, “Peel on . . . ”

“You’re the kind of patient these doctors love,” he said, with a half-smile that said ‘I know something you don’t.’ “First it’s one thing, than another.” He was walking away, his lunch break over; he had patients to see. “It never ends.”

He saw my look of wonder and in a parting, explanatory shot, said, “You’ve got so many things on your face!”

 *                               *                            *

That, by the way, is an authentic, truer than true, declaration of love and acceptance spoken in the middle of a noisy foodcourt at lunch time on a Monday. Afterall, all those “things” must have been on my face a long time, but he’d never said anything bad about them.

Life would be infinitely happier if we could only be born at the age of 80 and gradually approach 18. — Mark Twain

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2 Responses »

  1. I think we look so often at our own faces, we do not see the beauty anymore, just the parts we would like changed.
    We need the ones we love to remind us that we are beautiful just the way we are.

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