It was time she gave me, her presence, her thoughtful listening and focus. She made me feel like my words mattered.
Her eyes sparkled, her hair shimmered silver, and her jewelry shook and danced when she moved.
She got married, had kids, kept a nice house, and made sure there was always plenty of lunch meat in the fridge for her husband.
It was just one errant grey wire poking through the brown, looking out of place — just one hair. But I was horrified.
There was no dress rehearsal for being single. Suddenly my co-pilot was gone and I was flying solo.
How exhilarating it must be to feel the fresh air moving across your skin as you run half-naked without fear of assault or arrest.
I think the all to common phenomenon of elder women feeling invisible is a symptom of the larger issues of…