Tina Bishop
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01:23:09 am on February 3, 2010 |
No, Bobby Burns, I have no desire for that great gift, “To see oursels as other see us.”
Most of the time, thank God, we can bumble along in blessed ignorance of how we look and how we sound to others. There is a magic thing in our inner selves that shields us from the truth.
In my heart of hearts, I know that I’m a very old woman, subject to all the souvenirs of old age: wrinkles, age spots, creaky joints, puffy ankles, sagging chin lines and occasional flatulence. Until I spot my image in a store mirror or in a recent snap shot, I can cling to my fantasy that I am an attractive, slender, well-groomed young matron of say, 39. This kind of self deception is the only thing that keeps one good-humored and buffetted against the slings and arrows of outrageous decrepitude.Just when I think I’m fooling myself and the public, some well-meaning soul comes along with an offer to carry my packages or help me across the street. Can’t they see that warning in my eyes, “Don’t touch me –I’m not that old!”
Of course, there are times when such help is indeed welcome. I am shameless about asking my fellow passengers for aid in hoisting my bag unto a luggage rack, and for several years I have thoroughly enjoyed feeling very pampered as I roll through airports and customs in a wheelchair. Cruising along in it, my cane across my lap, gives me a real high. The feeling can only be described as regal.
A few years ago when I was traveling in a European airport with my son and daughter-in-law, I was in a wheelchair as usual, propelled by a strong Italian girl. We were trying to make a short connection between planes, and she was tearing along with the speed of an Olympic athlete. When we finally arrived, she was panting as she talked to the pilot. At her words, my son, who spoke fluent Italian, burst at laughing. She turned crimson, not knowing that my son understood every word. He refused to tell me what she said, but I suspect it might been, “Well, I never thought I’d make it. That old bag was a real load.”
That was seven years ago, when I was giddy young thing of 85. I still don’t know what that young woman said. Don’t ask, don’t tell!
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