Part I: An Ode to My Mother's Whiskers

Opening Disclaimer:  This post is going to be a little outside the norm of what I write.  It is supposed to be humorous. Please enjoy with humor in mind.  :)

About 10-15 years ago, I was home visiting my parents.  My mom was sitting in her recliner rocker and we were visiting.  It was good to be home.  I love sitting with my parents in their living room and just talking.  We catch up on things we've wanted to say forever, but some how fail to do in the busyness of life.  Going home is always good.

As we were sitting their chatting, my mom started to rub her chin.  And she got kind of silent.  And you could see she was fidgeting with something on her neck/chin area enough that I said, "Mom!  What ARE you doing?"

My mom:  "Anna, I have whiskers."

Me:  "You do not have whiskers.  There is nothing there."

My Mom: "No really.  I can feel them.  Get me my tweezers."

Me: "Ew!  No!  Do that in the bathroom!"

My Mom: "But I need you to help me pluck them."

Me: "Eh.  I love you, but not that much."

My Mom: "Don't let me be that old woman with three whiskers hanging off her chin that no one will do anything about."

Me: "Mom! You DON'T have whiskers.  Look, I can't see anything!" (I really did walk over and check out her chin)

My Mom: "But they are THERE!  I can FEEL them!"

Me: "Mom, It's in your mind.  You are beautiful to me as you are.  There are no whiskers."

My Mom: "Just promise me you won't let me be an old lady with whiskers."

Me: "Ok, Mom, but you don't have whiskers."


Let's fast forward about 10-15 years.  I'm sitting on the couch.  Minding my own business.  I cannot remember if I was reading or watching TV, but I somehow touched my chin.  And I touched it again. And by God.  There were whiskers.  I couldn't see them, but I sure could feel those suckers.  And as I looked into the mirror, they are in the same dang place as my mother's "whiskers."

Thanks for the genes mom. Come again?????  What happened here??  Really God, what is the evolutionary point of whiskers?  How can this possibly contribute to your grand plan?  This makes no sense whatsoever.  #Iamnotahappycamper

I don't think of myself as a vain person, but these whiskers things have set me off.  I know EXACTLY how my mother felt 15 years ago.  It's a coming of age thing.  Or rather, age is coming quicker than I really want thing.  It happens.  The whiskers are there.  They are another example of my body is doing its own thing while I have other plans for it.

And at the end of the day, my whiskers really aren't going to make me any other person than who I am.  And I can guarantee you that none of my friends notice them.  But they are there.  The reminder that while you cannot see them, I can feel them and they remind me that I am changing.

Whiskers are God's plan to keep us humble.  Just as we get comfortable with our bodies, something happens and changes that reminds us that this is just a human shell.  It's a reminder not to focus on the mundane part of our bodies, rather what we can do with it, not what it looks like.  Our bodies are weird.  They have a mind of their own and they will do things outside your will.  We can try to exert control over our bodies that we might not have and be miserable, or learn to live and love the shell we have.

In part II, I'll discuss what to do when that shell is scarred.  Tune in tomorrow for the second part of learning to love the shell you have.

Anna