MY BEAUTY

IN THE EYES OF THE WEATHERMAN

I was having breakfast and watching TODAY on NBC. Al Roker, the weatherman, started to talk about the weather with his usual gusto--as if he himself had created it, and would warrant his predictions.

Then, he switched from the weather to something unusual and mesmerizing! He showed pictures of women and men, one at a time. Each pasted on a jar of Smucker’s Strawberry Jam. Below it was the person’s name and age, ranging from 99 to 100+ years old.

Still healthy! Still active! Still loved! Still appreciated!

It seemed that the pictures and the information were provided by family members or close friends.

Born and raised in Egypt, a country of ancient history and entrenched traditions, I was accustomed to looking back until my neck ached and my vision blurred, revering and seeking wisdom from our ancestors—the  Pharaohs, the Greeks, the Romans, the Jews, the Christians, and the Muslims—kings and queens. So I waited for this part of Mr. Rocker’s presentation to materialize on a daily basis!

Would it take over some of the time assigned to the weather forecast, I wondered! After all, the U.S. is currently boasting the highest number of centenarians in the world--97,000 strong and rising.

Did not happen!

It remained a delight--once in a while.

Did not escape my mind though! In time, it even sneaked into my “Think-About” list, then into my “What-To-Do-If” list. Not that I belong to the centenarians now, or any time soon. But to be prepared to give it my best in case my life extends and goes on to reach the eligibility for a Smucker’s jam posting.

For example, I wondered if all my current family and friends would be alive when I'm a hundred years old. Would they remain healthy, aware of my whereabouts! Willing and able to take the effort to remain in contact with me! Life would be awfully lonely and barren losing a single person in addition to those whom I lost and still mourn. With my damn sharp memory, their loss would shove me into permanent depression. And if depressed, forget about both my “Think-About” list, and my “What-To-Do-If.”

Having a Smucker’s posting experience would be worth being watched or even zoomed with family and friends. Hopefully, all or most of them would sincerely believe that my face--with all its wrinkles-- was worth showing on a jar of jam. In fact, I would be delighted if they made remarks to the effect that I looked a lot younger than the age written on the Smucker’s jar.

And for a career woman like me, it would be worth living the one hundred or so years if all or some of my family members and friends sincerely recognized my lifetime achievements and hard work. They can do that regardless of whether or not they have their own; and not necessarily because they had benefited directly or indirectly from it.

Hopefully though, as one approaches the mature age of a hundred or so, one starts to wizen up--thinks of the essence of life and not worries as much about recognition and achievements. May be at this age, a solace is to be “achieved” from remembering how much love, respect, and help was taken and given. How much life was a joy and a pleasure.

But apart from my age, despite of my career, and aside of my good deeds, dear family and friends, please keep in mind how vain I have always been. Don’t ask me to smile wide in a picture of me to be posted on the Smucker’s jar. I would never smile freely in it if any of my teeth is missing, crooked, yellowing, or failing. Besides, I will never smile in a picture without an effort to control the wrinkles around my eyes, mouth, and on my forehead.

Now that I think about it, a good enough picture of me, chosen by a family or a friend of mine, and I see on a public TV, should probably looks like my pictures in my forties, fifties, and sixties. Good pictures did not materialize before that age, and stopped materializing since. So why don’t you save yourself from my constant nagging and ask me to choose one of these pictures to send for the jar of jam posting?

And while we are at it, why don’t you also, before sending my worthy of mention, ask me what I think is my lifetime great achievements!

A final word of wisdom; remember how opinionated and determined I have always been? People tell me that it will not be possible for me to carry that throughout my old age.  I don’t believe it. But in the remote possibility that someone or something caused my mind to be changed either about how good I look in the picture I saw on the jar of jam or the worthy of mention accompanying the picture--please, please dear family and friends, bear my sulkiness with me.