When I turned forty, I decided to take some steps to ensure that my youthfulness would go on forever. I realized, however, that some effort on my part would be required. So, I scheduled my first-ever-facial, and bought what we now call “product” to ensure that my skin would be Hollywood-perfect forever.
It was probably too late to make up for all these days at the beach and on the tennis court, but I was going to try my best.
Somehow the facial habit never happened. But the wrinkles did. And although it is too little, too late, I decided that 85-year-old-me needed a bit of pampering. So earlier this week, I had a facial.
It was heavenly. Quiet music played. Gentle hands pressed delicious-smelling creams and lotions into my skin. I felt like I was levitating. I didn’t want it to end.
But it did.