On most days here in Covington, I take a walk. With the weather now warming up, that’s usually in the morning.
Sometimes I’ll pass a storefront and catch my reflection in the glass. More than once, I’ll said out loud, “Oh my god, look at me!” I’m not happy with what I see.
I don’t usually think of myself as being old—I mean 59 isn’t that old—but when I see that reflection, it reminds me I’m not young. No doubt that quad cane I’m walking with has something to do with this negative feeling. It doesn’t ruin my day. I just get past that reflection and keep walking.
One thing I don’t notice when I look at that reflection in the glass is my small wrists. Of course I notice them all the time. Hell, I’m noticing them now as I type this.
I’ve always had small wrists and I’ve always wished that my wrists were larger (is that the right word?), but at my age, it’s not going to happen.
Back in my “Business executive days,” I would always wear long-sleeved shirts. I did this in part because I didn’t want people to notice my small wrists. Admittedly, that was kind of stupid, but I was younger back then and when you’re younger, you’re more stupid.
Now I’m thinking of my ex-wife. Did she ever notice my small wrists? She had to, but we never talked about them. She probably didn’t care and now I mostly don’t either. I wear short-sleeved shirts and T-shirts all the time. Look at my small wrists—I dare you. I don’t give a shit.
I also have a small ass, but I consider this a good thing. You know, you take the good with the bad.
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