You don’t look your age!

As I draw near to my gate, tongue near hanging out like a dog’s from the heat, a woman stops me to kindly ask if I would take part in a survey.  Leaning on the gate, I assent and proceed to give her my age.  She is astonished and told me that she was pulling out the questionnaire that relates to those in the 35-44 age group!   Okay, I tell her with a smile.  She made me feel pretty.


I feel I look my age (no, do not ask me what it is) and the bags under each of my eyes speak to that!  LOL!  But others do not, so I decided to figure out what has kept me looking younger than I am?   My mother would say that I have good genes, and that she had me in her youth therefore I am supposed to be strong and beautiful and have no reason to be ill!    In her own way my mother lets me know I am perfect, whole and complete.  Thank-you, mama.  On a higher level, I indeed am of the stock that survived the Middle Passage, which grew stronger under the hard work, hot sun, racism and poverty!  I am of strong stock and we have a long shelf life!

Fortunate I am, being of the generation of Trinidad and Tobago people that truly never had to worry about food on the table.  O’ yes there are hungry people in my land, but as a nation, we have food.  My parent and foreparents ensured that I ate regularly of all the wonderful food of this country.   Market-fresh pigeon peas, rice – hill and swamp varieties, dasheen, tannia and cassava, callaloo and bhagi, chicken: stewed, curried, or roasted.  Some souse or black pudding, oh’ don’t forget the hops with cheese, sponge cake with a little orange flavor, sweet bread and butter bread.  My people taught me how to ‘turn ah pot’: to take little and make it much and to share it with those who had not.    I got cod liver oil each morning of my growing years , my father tilting my head back and pouring the thick, cloying  oil down my throat, then quickly he would bring my head back to normal and put a  freshly cut grapefruit or orange to my lips.  He wanted me to be strong and well and I am still chugging along, not looking my age.

 I still find pleasure at the simple things of life such as taking a walk or digging in the soil to put in another seed or watching Batman cartoons or better still Star Trek.  I can still laugh at the silliest things and truly try to find some bit of humour and joy in everything.   Often, I open my mouth to discuss a serious subject and others begin to laugh.  In this country of double entendre, I get myself in a lot of mess because I do not clue into that second meaning of my words.  I have paid a high price for my naïveté and for many years worked at trying to be sophisticated but to no avail so, I‘ve accepted who I am in that regard and believe that has kept the wrinkles at bay.

Always interested in the ways in which previous generations survived and being an only child and a shy child at that, I ended up spending lots of time with the older folks.  I watched (children were seen and not heard) and tried to learn.  To this day, I always “walk with vex money”: my cousin told me about this and this small emergency fund is always in my purse and gets replenished each and every time it is used.  Once upon a time my ‘vex money’ was only the amount for taxi fare home, now it is a bit more.  As a young adult I would wrinkle my nose as I watched my mother smear the drippings of egg white onto her face, to create a near instant facial mask, before re-cycling the egg shells.  Now I practice the same thing.  Rubs to make the skin smooth and soft include avocado peel, and coconut meat.   Brew my morning coffee and use the grounds for the dark circles under the eyes, then sprinkle those same leavings into the orchids giving rise to both of us, me and the orchids, blooming beautifully!   Soursop, vervain, lime and bay leaf teas to relax, aloe to tighten the skin and give an inner cleanse.  Rachette to wash the hair and balance the blood sugar, fevergrass for what else but fever, and a little flavouring in the pot.

A few years aback, in a business situation I was told that all I brought to the table was motherliness.  It not only shocked, hurt and angered me at the time but continued to chafe me over the years.  I have come to realize that the individual who mouthed it so cattily was not practicing that day, what she saw in me: my compassion.   I feel for people and being a solution finder always want to make things better.  That compassionate side of me may not be easily seen but like any deep strong light it truly shines through especially to those folks who initially are not open to my style.  It is never my intent to hurt anyone thus the ugly in my actions get quickly dissipated.     No ugly, no wrinkles.

 Now you may see this as a bit of a boast but and perhaps it is.  I never saw myself as being bright.   I saw myself as being different but not a bright person.  One day it came to me that yes indeed, I am bright.  I know a lot of things and I don’t always see things in the same way as others.  I always want to know from the mundane to the sublime.  And, I remember most of which I learn.    Now I need to learn ways in which to maintain that knowing that I am bright.  How must I use this for my happiness?  How having this knowledge that I am bright help my spirit, help others.  I am still a puzzled as to those issues.  But my curiosity probably adds the youth factor, eh?    I have made up my mind to be a life-long learner.    I picture me with my cane and sneakers, grey hair, looking old but feeling young, large veined hands up in the air asking the professor to give me a real life example.  LLOL!   Heh, I may even be TELLING the professor the example because I was there when it happened!  LOL!

People really keep me alive!  Walking through the city or in a park sometimes I am able to feel and sometimes see the energy of the group, whirling, swirling around me and it can bring a peace to my spirit.  I am sure you have experienced this at one time or the other.    Now I do not have a lot of friends but I love the fact that I have friends from every strata of life.  There are some who fit the status quo and some who are just plain odd.  A few I meet only once a year: at Carnival or Christmas for instance, or through post cards (yes, some still use hard copy), a jazz show, seminar, funeral or birth.   One friend I meet each year just for the Foreign Film Festival and we never talk again until next year’s festival.  Yet, there are others with whom I speak each and every day, just to say heh, nothing fancy.   For me ‘breaking bread’ with someone is a holy thing and each of those I call friend, I’ve eaten with.  I like the fact that they all make different parts of my brain work, and yes, I do feel my brain working when I am around them.  They teach me things, the subtle teachings are the best, and we love each other, warts and all

Writing this article has left me with a smile on my face because I see how much I have, for which I must be thankful.  I am thankful for the constant, that is, for feeling younger than I am.  With all my complaints I am thankful for being in this life.  And, I am thankful to you for taking your time to read my writings.

Until,