I remember the look of my mother’s knees when she was the age I am now. They were often swollen from arthritis, with wrinkles encasing them like little smiley faces of skin. Her ankles also carried the marks of the aging process with swelling that bespoke the heart disease she had. I always looked at her body with affection for the woman she was and some gratitude I did not appear that old or afflicted with illness. I knew that if I was lucky enough to live that long, some day I would look like her.

This week, the realization hit me that the aging process has taken a toll on my appearance. Since I do not remember injuring the big toe on my left foot, I suppose losing my toe nail means that all the chemo I have infused has taken another nail victim. And my knees. There is the familiar swelling and wrinkling skin that looks like a smiley face of skin. I have stopped coloring my hair so it is no longer my pre-cancer color. The reddish brown hair I had artificially created these past years has been replaced by my real hair color It grew back in after chemo a dark, mousy brown with pieces of gray sliding through it in no particular pattern. The truth is I’m older than I was and the youngest I will be for the rest of my life. Cancer and life has taken a toll on my body and my appearance.

Why do I think my wrinkly knees and gray hair are worthy of a blog post? Because I feel that as a society, we don’t talk openly about what it means to age. We do not address the challenges of bodies that are not as strong, agile, or have the stamina they once did. We do not talk about memories that are sketchy some days and how our once supple skin is saggy and wrinkly. We do not talk about how others’ perception of us changes or how our perceptions of ourselves have shifted with the changes of time. And because there is not communication about it, I think many feel isolated. Many of my older clients feel as though their struggle with aging is about something wrong with them.

My birthday is a few short weeks away and it brings such deep gratitude to still be alive. But it also marks the passage of time and the changes that come with it. Those of you who have read my book know that I called my first year after my cancer diagnosis, “The Year of the Inside Work”. It was a time for me to reflect more fully on who I was as a person. I believe it is time for me to revisit The Year of the Inside Work as I come up on the anniversary of my birth and my cancer diagnosis. I think it is time for me to work on some more acceptance, and to embrace the challenges and gifts of aging. And to share my truth with you, my amazing readers. And the truth in this moment is that I am ambivalent. As I write about acceptance, the dark peach nail polish is drying on my dying toe nail. And so clearly I have some work to do in this year of inside work. Stay tuned…