My basic activity is a gentle face wash; my most-used tool—a plastic hairbrush. Toothbrush, toothpaste, and nail clipper are all hygienic; then—rose-water toner, face moisturizing lotion, sun block, and stick deodorant.
At night, I add three anti’s—anti-liver spots, anti-under-eye circles, and anti-wrinkles—sounding like the family from Brooklyn. The liver spots required a moderately-expensive skin peel before the anti-cream. (My face was blue afterwards.) The under-eye cream comes in a small tube, and it is questionable as to whether it comforts me to rub, improving my emotional health, or improves my skin. My face has surrendered to an anti-wrinkle cream in a small jar with a big price that hasn’t produced the advertised result.
So, at sixty-nine, with long, flaxen-gray hair and deepening wrinkles I attribute to smiling, I decided, with my woman friend, to follow our young dermatologist’s recommendation and have fractionalized laser treatments to firm up our collagen—thereby reducing wrinkles. He offered a book of two hundred and fifty photographs of successes he’s had and detailed his training in Israel.
My realization is, “In aging, inner qualities of empathy, harmony, selflessness, and humor are our beauty, along with keeping our appearance pleasing—balancing our wisdom with our outward look.”