Visceral
My favorite word: visceral Old women are beautiful. I’m in the emergency department today. Ironically, not an emergency. I’m one of those bane on the system types, but my gp told me to come in so here I sit. The seats are blue and grey. It feels like they always are but I can’t remember the amount of times I’ve been in one of these. An old lady is telling her loved one that her friend fell, she says not to worry. She glances at her friend and says: it was quite a way to make a statement. She laughs, not strained, but free. Not callous, just gentle in the only joy that can be found when acceptance is well and truly past. They gossip after the phone call is done. Talking about daughters and mother hens. There’s a beauty in that I think. I’ve watched people assume that the elderly are resigned. Like it’s sad. But I watch her laugh and natter and I don’t see it anywhere. I love aging. I feel more solid every year. Not compacted to the point of unchanging, or drowning an inner child, j...