Dear Wrinkles,

An intoxicated friend recently told me that I "have way too many wrinkles for my age." She took her hands on both sides of my face, lifting my face back and neck up to demonstrate what I could look like with "a little help." The conversation was abruptly shut down as my 19-year-old defensive granddaughter and another close friend shouted in unison, "she is beautiful just the way she is." I didn't hold this against my friend. After all, I have learned over my lifetime not to give too much credence to anything a talking drunken head has to say, and certainly not to take their words to heart, although they can certainly sting the spirit. However, others had directed me over the years to the age-old belief that, "the truth comes out when people are drinking," so I soon found myself in front of my 10x magnifying mirror. Wow. I have some serious wrinkles!

I had never given too much attention to my wrinkles. Of course, I knew they were there, but they didn't take up space or time in my head. This time was different. I started studying my wrinkles. I spent time in the mirror looking at them from all angles. I ordered vats of wrinkle cream. My favorite was a homemade brew developed in the lab of a woman who proudly refers to herself as a "good witch.". Her magic potion is called, "Hippie Shit." She had me convinced that her natural brew would smooth out my wrinkles and perhaps even remarkably banish them to hell. I ordered two bottles. I am mesmerized by the woman who brewed the concoction. I follow her on Facebook because she reminds me of the days when I didn't give a shit about wrinkles, or anything else. And, I just like saying, "Hippie Shit."

I even contemplated surgery. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. It might renew my spirit, or better yet banish years from my face. But then I thought about all the women I know who have had plastic surgery. Hmm.....No thanks. With my luck, my mug would end up on the cover of "What Not To Do If You Have Too Many Wrinkles."

But back to the wrinkles. Yes, I have them. Lots of them. I've learned I have more than I want to count but not less than deserved. I started naming them. Oh, there's one for my biological, narcissistic mother who referred to herself as "Mrs. Jones." Oh wow, there's another one in honor of my abusive, alcoholic stepfather who would not allow me to call him by his first name, but demanded I call him "Lovie." Oh, look at that one. That one is in honor of my only brother who was burned to death in a fiery crash, identified only by his dental records. Oh wow, another one - it represents my first abusive marriage. Another one for my second marriage that also ended in divorce. Oh, and there is one for every jerk I ever dated while I was going to therapy every week for 7 years to bravely transcend and unravel the abuse I'd survived as a child and young adult. Oh, look, hundreds more dedicated to my two sons and their kids, all of whom have had to deal with being raised, yet loved, by a wounded, dysfunctional woman, doing her best to overcome the unthinkable. Oh, look! Many more named for years I spent building a successful real estate brokerage with no formal education. Yikes! There's a hundred of them dedicated to just the last 13 months, all a result of the absolute love of my life dropping dead in front of me with no warning at my son's wedding reception. Wow! Yes, that's a shitload of wrinkles.

Now that I have named them, I have a great deal of honor, admiration and deep respect for them. I embrace them for the lessons and wisdom they have provided. So now, when I look in the mirror I see the beauty in every single deepening crevice. Each one represents deep love, compassion, concern, care, exploration, enjoyment, heartbreak, and longing. And more than anything, lessons well learned! I think that's what life is about - in all of its ups and downs and ins and outs. All represented by crevices. I can subscribe to that. So instead of investing in vats of wrinkle cream or plastic surgery (not that there is anything wrong with that!) i think I will invest in adventures and experiences, even the ones that may cause more wrinkles!

Oh wait! I'm almost out of Hippie Shit. I better order another vat just in case it is a miracle drug!

Cheers to all of our wrinkles, and those to come! And to friends who are willing to tell us the truth!