Once in a while my daughter and I find ourselves standing in front of the bathroom mirror at the same time.  She is 21; I am 53.  She looks beautiful; I look older.  When there is a different mother/daughter duo in front of the mirror, the reflections tell the same story, only I get to be the younger face.  Objectively my mother looks more worn than I do; well-earned age spots and laugh lines. But I realized, as I observed my mother alone recently, eyeing herself without the consciousness of comparison, that the sense of age and agelessness cycles through the generations.

Melissa Manchester (“Midnight Blue”, “Don’t Cry Out Loud”) recorded a poignant song that never made it big: “Through the Eyes of Grace”.  It described an elderly couple sitting at the breakfast table, the husband reading the paper, the wife (Grace) seeking connection.  In her mind she implores her husband:

“…look across the table, look across the table to me, there’s still a young girl in this old girl’s face; look across the table to me…” So begins the day through the eyes of Grace.

I heard this song in the 80s, before my parents were as aged as they are now.  My dad who loves to read is now legally blind; my mother who loves to walk has had numerous surgeries that have laid her up.  Dad was always healthy so the macular degeneration has taken him by surprise.  Mom has had much more practice at being unwell.  At 22, she survived a car accident that left her hip shattered, needing to be rebuilt.  At the time of my wedding in 1982, she was struggling with chemotherapy and hair loss, depleted energy and eventual inability to work; she survived breast cancer with a lot of courage.  She’s been a soldier.

What is difficult at this time is that my parents’ bodies are not going to recover.  My dad is not going to get his sight back; Mom is not going to get less stooped.  This is the new normal for them.  But what has surprised me at this stage is Mom’s continued striving to be as attractive as she can.

My mom was very pretty.  Her wedding dress in 1955 was virtually the same design as Kate Middleton’s.  She looked beautiful.

I watch her now, struggling with her very challenging 84 year old assaulted body (mastectomy, hip replacements and deteriorating spine) perched on the seat of her walker in front of the bathroom mirror.  She applies foundation and powder, then lipstick as blush.  She wants her necklace or scarf to match her pants and she uses a pick to fluff her thinning hair.  She is 84 and yet still 25.  She is Grace.

My parents are in their 58th year of marriage.  My dad has been a gift to my mom through all the battles.  He loves her still.

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true;
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face. *

My mother’s face is changing.  In her mind she is still in her 20s.  We are ageless wherever we land, especially if nobody else shares the mirror with us. 

*Yeats (When You are Old)

Cathy Sakiyama, M.Ed.
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