Trousers Rolled

I grow old ... I grow old ...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

Gone are the days when I looked a decade younger than I really was.

The other day, while running errands, DW wanted to pick up a prescription from the pharmacy, so we pulled up in front of the big glass windows of our neighbourhood drug store. DW hopped out while I waited in the car.

You can't see me. I'm holding my phone in front of my face to get the shot.

The car was reflected brightly in the window and I could clearly see myself. Only, who I saw wasn't the me I was expecting to see.

I saw a round face. Round glasses took up most of that face and the rims cast shadows, making the face seem heavily wrinkled.

I was wearing a black baseball cap and could only make out the hair around my side burns, and they were clearly grey. It was an old man looking back at me.

I was horrified. Is this the face that others see when they look at me?

But it wasn't just an old face that I saw in the reflected glass. It was an older man. Older than I actually am. I saw someone who looked closer to 70 than to 60.

I couldn't wait for DW to return to the car so that I could pull away from this old man.

I'm growing old but I'm not ready to wear my trousers rolled.

Happy Tuesday!