Vanity while aging, Petty things in the face of life’s realities

I hit another annual milestone this past week so I dedicate today’s piece to matters arising. I’m still here! No strange hairs are popping out of my nostrils – yet! No mushroom clouds are hanging over my head – ‘tofiakwa!' The fluffy New Year resolutions I excitedly framed up in January are now dusty; I’m waiting for year-end to renew my dreams. The shifting realities of life continue to stare at me in the face.

Inside this woman, there is a little girl who never grows up. The things we do for beauty! Think of Shakespeare’s often misquoted line, ‘Vanity, thy name is woman!’ I therefore look into a mirror – face down, periodically, to gain perspective of changes. Looking face-down in a mirror brings to the fore things you never thought possible. Nature is having a field day with me, especially on my face, with an onslaught of sinks. With the kind of boldness only nature can muster, nature is digging holes into my face and I can’t stop it.

Nature has a unique sense of humour. She has not given me wrinkles (I might be in denial). Instead, she is jokingly digging holes under my 50 plus year-old eyes as if she is making way to plant something in there. Wisdom and poise? I hope so. Nature is unstoppable. I see an increasing loss of collagen under my eyes, right above the cheek bones, giving that part of my face a sinking look. Where did my collagen go? Collagen loss has given my cheek bones a lift, accentuating the aging protrusions and telling the story from beneath the skin. Incredible! So I began to flirt with problem solving.

Three months ago, I eagerly allowed myself to be persuaded that I can find a solution to nature’s digging effort – in a bottle; a magic potion in a bottle! With a grin and hope, I parted with some good money (GH¢50) that can feed a few street children. With that, I took ownership of the face rejuvenation lotion, ‘Age Repair Elixir.’ I used it lavishly, exceeding the recommended usage. In less than a month, I had emptied the bottle. But the aging on my face was not repaired, absolutely no improvement on nature.

Bad weeds never die. They just bloom! So it was that during the year, I again allowed myself to be persuaded that I have too much eyebrow hair, giving me a look that is out of fashion. To bring me into top fashion, my daughter Darkoa and a beloved friend marched me to a beauty parlour. As I sat in the chair, nervous, the beauty expert pushed my head backwards and asked me to relax.

With a thread in hand, she approached my eyebrows, explaining that she was about to apply a new method called threading, to trim, shape and streamline my otherwise unkempt eyebrow. What I felt within moments were the hairs being yanked out of my pores. What sheer cruelty! I cried. After the ordeal, I looked into a mirror and there was blood. ‘Pain and beauty’, my daughter assured me. ‘Leave me ugly; Let me be’, I retorted. Never again!

During the year, I had some episodes of stabbings. No, not from knives! These were undergarment type of stabbings by well-engineered innocent-looking contraptions called braziers. I still don’t know who invented these little monsters for perfectly normal women to tightly wrap around their tender upper bodies just so they can cause pain and discomfort. The sole purpose of these contraptions? To give shape and cleavage for harmless sagging girls. Some of these contraptions have metals at the lower edges to enhance the ultimate results. These metals can stab in broad daylight and in company! For a woman trying to compete in this insane world of business, enduring stabbings from your own undergarment is unwelcome.

Book no lie. My medical records indicate that from July 17, 2007 to July 14 this year, I packed on some useless 5.7 kilos in weight gain. Fact: I ate every morsel of it. I usually hear people who have gained weight go on the defensive saying “I don’t really eat oh!” By such statements, they imply that there is some mystery to weight gain; that weight can descend on you unawares. That is a lie. The truth is painful but it is liberating.

Here is how my weight gain happened. In the past year, my eating habits changed and I lost control over what I put into my mouth. The discipline I had adhered to for decades was abandoned. Instead of a diet high in vegetables and fruits, I ate mostly rice and stew, lavishly stewed in oil in the form of jollof rice and fried rice. And for good effect, I loaded on sugar in coffee tea, milo tea, tea tea and coca-cola all day long on-the-run and on-the-go. During the year, I had a sedate lifestyle, worked long hours day and night, with little sleep, sitting non-stop on my tired old butts.

And the weight came. Now what? I’ve promised myself to start some form of exercise regimen and to watch what I eat. This matter does not call for a prayer. I will not bother God with such an idiotic problem I’ve brought unto myself. I’ve heard it said that up to age 40 is what God gives you; beyond that is what you give to yourself. I’ll report back on this weight matter next year if I still have the grace of life, health and the ability to continue writing. We are not promised tomorrow!

No one gets out of this earth alive; no one! No matter for how long corpses are kept in fridges in our attempt to hold on to the dead, when you die, you are dead. In the midst of the pettiness of my inconsequential life, a window opened for me to see the flip side – what really matters about life.

I learned that you can be physically alive but on many levels, be very dead. I reconnected with a close friend I had not seen in 20 years who is currently in a state of half-dead half-alive. He is very much alive in the flesh but is absent in the mind. He still stands very tall and gorgeous, with a smile to die for. But he is suffering from dementia and has memory loss. It was a mixture of pain and joy to see him again. He did not remember me no matter how much I told him about the past just to bring back a grain of memory. He is one of those I can boldly refer to as one of the fathers of journalism and public relations in Ghana. He was active, bold, outspoken and with the best sense of humour. But now he is here but not here! He is absent.

It is poignant that one of the deepest lessons I learned in one year lasted for less that one hour. So in perspective, wrinkles, gutters in the face, and brazier stabs are nothing to detest. What matters the most are the people who love us unconditionally even after memories are lost.

233-208286817; dorisdartey@yahoo.com