I looked at myself in the mirror one last time before leaving for work and frowned at that familiar face. “You are beginning to show your age, Belinda.” My voice sounded far away; lost in the annoying hum of the bathroom fan. I leaned closer, inspecting the beginning of yet another wrinkle above my left cheek. I was tired of myself and completely fed up with the woes of growing older and sudden exposure to cranky joints, memory changes, and low tolerance for spicy foods. Deciding I would never make the cover of “Vogue” I grabbed my keys and headed out the door; stopping briefly to bend down and kiss Barney on his soft nose.
I got behind the wheel of my sensible, durable, boring white Impala and drove the 25 miles to Presque Isle in a trance of sorts; my mind overflowing with memories, smashed dreams, unrequited loves and unanswered prayers. In 30 years or less I would no doubt be laying my burden down on the threshold of my life and I knew I would have little to show. I had no children. I had not written volumes of poetry or best-selling novels. I had made no great discoveries and I had found no solutions to the problems that plagued the world. Just what had I accomplished over the past 57 years, anyway?
On my way home, I stopped at Rite-Aid in Caribou and wandered up and down the aisles, loving the brightly lit shelves of merchandise and the rows of chocolate candies, sweet treats, and lingering perfumes. After a great deal of thought, I purchased a small bottle of Love’s “Baby Soft” body mist, a giant size Zero candy bar, and a “People” magazine; all tiny extravagances. I sat in my car, dabbing a bit of the new scent on my wrists and nibbling on the candy bar. I would save the magazine for later in the evening.
Where would I be in 10 years? I leaned my head on the back of the car seat, inhaling the sweetness of the Love perfume and the decadency of the chocolate. I pulled the rear view mirror down a bit until I could see myself in the glass. I looked younger in the car’s dim light and my eyes seemed brighter and bluer. Some of my unwelcome wrinkles reached out timidly; losing their punch in the gentle glow of dusk.
I drove home, savoring every morsel of the Zero bar and thanking God for the healing power of chocolate, among other things. From time to time, there will be days such as this. What-if days. Self-reprimand days. Days filled with second-guessing and woe-is-me days. Every once in a while, we all need to reward ourselves; even if it is in the form of a chocolate bar or a small, inexpensive luxury. We need to nurture ourselves from time to time and love ourselves always — despite natural aging, bumps in the road, and aspiring dreams that must never die.
Editor’s Note: Belinda Wilcox Ouellette lives Connor TWP with her husband Dale and their Goldendoodle Barney. They are currently working on building a home in Caribou. You may contact Belinda online at: dbwouellette@maine.rr.com.
