A Certain

I have often believed my life has fallen into chapters, not regulated by a calendar, but distinguished with emotion.

Mostly were happy, a few ecstatic, and one long chapter, 4 years, when I was introduced to the bittersweet taste of loss.

However, all seem to pop up occasionally in memory and one or two remain and become identified as lessons,

Such is the memory of a moment in time when I was employed near one of the luxurious shopping meccas on Long Island, My brood had departed, (some for college, a few for their own adventures,) and my husband’s career often demanded extensive travel.

Occasionally on a Thursday evening, rather than returning home for a solitary dinner, I enjoyed a leisurely evening of shopping along with a light supper in one of the boutique’s dining rooms. That was also when for the first time I observed several elderly ladies browsing cosmetic counters.

Often I wondered why the well dressed ladies of a certain age were still buying makeup. It seemed odd.

This afternoon when I, (now definitely of “a certain age”) opened a lovely package delivered by UPS from one of the stores I once visited and put the small black boxes into my cosmetic pouch, I remembered my insensitive reaction.

The clientele I watched so long ago were buying memories of youth, packaged in dreams, and that is perhaps easier to find at a cosmetic counter than in reality.

And undoubtedly, exactly what I do when I tap on their online shopping app and order a new lipstick the color of strawberries and pretend it matters.