The Old Gray Mare...

ain’t what she used to be... and that’s the truth. I was never an athletic sort, but even for me I can see that my body is slowly breaking down; one knee is shot, my shoulder is shot. I’m stiff. But complaining about aches and pains isn’t what this is about. Last Saturday I went to a garage sale. A woman was there that I had not seen for quite a long time. Her husband, who died 17 months ago, was the auto mechanic who took 6 months to do a simple repair on our car some years back. I spoke to her and said "Hi Carol." I could see in her face that she wasn't sure who I was at first, then recognition. We visited a minute, and then she said, "I didn't recognize you because you've gotten so gray." And then she added, "My hair hasn't changed color at all." She spoke the truth: her hair, indeed, has no gray in it at all although she is a good 10 to 15 year older than me, and she really didn't recognize me because I've gotten so gray. But, OUCH!. Did she have to tell me that?