It was unexpected for 68-year-old Patsy when she shared a happy swimwear photo from her vacation to have her daughter-in-law Janice make fun of her “wrinkled body.” After suffering a deep loss, Patsy made the decision that Janice needed to learn a valuable lesson about respect and self-worth that would last a lifetime.
Okay, folks, tell me straight up: Is there an age restriction on wearing swimwear? I know that most of you kind people out there would say, “Hell no, Patsy!” with joy in your hearts. Let me tell you, though: my own daughter-in-law is the one member of this family who appears to have a different perspective!
Now, let me back up a little before you get too worked up. My spouse Donald and I, who are both in our late sixties and charming, recently returned from our eagerly anticipated trip to Miami Beach a week ago.
That was the first time we had gone on a trip together, the two of us, since those boisterous grandkids had taken over our living room. Let me tell you, our renewed romance was greatly enhanced by the sunshine in Florida!
All of us felt like kids again.
Every morning, we challenged ourselves to rise earlier than our customary 5 a.m., indulged in an abundance of freshly prepared seafood to cause our arteries to burst, and enjoyed leisurely strolls down the pristine white beach, holding hands.
I was wearing this amazing black two-piece swimsuit one afternoon, and Donald complimented me nonstop. We paused to share a short kiss, the kind that still gives you butterflies in your stomach after all these years.
Unexpectedly, a charming young girl approached us with a beaming smile on her face. Before we knew it, she had pulled out her phone to record that very moment, with me in my go-to black two-piece and Donald in his outlandish floral swim trunks (oh, his brave heart!).
A tear filled my eye, honey, as I looked at that photo.
Yes, we were no longer teenagers, but could you believe the love in that photo? Authentic, radiant, and youthful in core. I even plucked up the bravery to ask the little darling to send it over because, you know, it was sort of a memento.
When I got home, the sun was still shining and felt like a warm, pleasant memory on my skin. I couldn’t help but post that photo on Facebook.
The comments area quickly filled up, surpassing the speed of a Thanksgiving pie dish.
“Couple goals!” and “You two look adorable, Patsy!” and other endearing remarks.
Then, whoosh! My good mood was abruptly dampened when I saw my daughter-in-law Janice’s comment:
“How on earth is it possible for her to display her wrinkly body in a swimsuit? 🤦♀️And kissing your father-in-law is nasty. Really, how ugly does she look? 🤢🤷♀️”
My mouth dropped to the ground. “Wrinkled” ? “Grosssss” ? After reading the message again, every word seemed like a rusty nail driven deep into my heart.
Again, heated and enraged tears welled up. I could be certain that Donald would be furious. I snapped a quick picture of the comment right away, and presto! It simply disappeared.
I realized then that there was a strange aspect to the removed comment. To make matters worse, Janice must have intended to send it in private. It was hurtful and cunning, that’s for sure.
I’m not one to back down from a fight, especially when it comes to maintaining my dignity in spite of my wrinkles. Not at all, please. Janice required a harsh reality check that would shake her immaculately manicured nails. However, how?
That’s when my face broke into a naughty smile. I had a scheme so fantastic that it would affect my daughter-in-law, who is quite the critic, for a long time.
“Donald,” my husband heard me say. “We need to talk about that upcoming family barbecue.”
With a half-eaten bag of peanut butter cookies gripped in his palm, Donald lumbered into the living room. I inhaled deeply, attempting to calm the raging fury within of me.
I wasn’t sure if I should show him the screenshot, so I paused. The thought of seeing Janice’s hateful remarks in black and white would drive him insane. No, a larger audience was required for this revelation.
“I was thinking,” I said to Donald, “what if we invited all our family members and friends for the barbecue, honey?”
His eyebrow went up. “Why not, of course, my love? Let me send you a quick message on our family’s chat group!” He smiled, chirped, and walked away.
A sly smile stretched over my face. “Time for a little payback!” To myself, I mumbled. The family cookout that was coming up sounded like the ideal occasion.
“Oh, Janice, honey, you’re in for a surprise!” I said, my eyes sparkling with laughter.
This was no longer just about getting even. The goal was to demonstrate to Janice—and to everyone else, for that matter—that getting older isn’t just a number and that a few wrinkles never hurt anyone.
My daughter-in-law was about to have a taste of her own medicine as the payback mission began. This is going to be a juicy story, so fasten your seatbelts, everyone.
The scent of sizzling burgers and Donald’s renowned potato salad filled the air as the Saturday sun shone down on our garden. Teenagers were chasing each other around the spray, and grandkids were shrieking with glee. There was laughter and talk all around.
Everyone was there, including my son Shawn’s silly college pal Mark and my lovely niece Brenda. It was the ideal location for our family cookout.
Well, with the exception of Janice. Not unusual for her, she was stylishly late.
Eventually, I caught a glimpse of Janice walking in with a high-end handbag hanging from her arm. With a rehearsed smile on her face, she looked around the room. ideal timing.
The sound of silverware clinking stopped for a time as I cleared my throat. Everybody turned to look at me; there was an odd mixture of hopeful smiles and faces smeared with ketchup.
“Okay, everyone calm down for a minute,” I said with a little twinkle in my eyes as Janice walked in and sunk into a chair. “I want to share a special moment from my trip to Miami with Donald.”
I flicked through my phone’s pictures until I came upon the perfect one—the one that caught that snatched kiss on the sand.
The crowd let out a collective “aww” in admiration of the picture. Donald, god bless him, even slightly swelled out his chest with a teasing smile on his lips.
I held up the photo so that everyone could see it and said, “This picture represents love and companionship that has lasted through the years.” “It’s a reminder that love doesn’t fade with age; it grows stronger.”
“Oh, Patsy, that’s beautiful!” With a feigned excitement in her voice, Janice chirped. “You look so… sporty in that swimsuit!”
I couldn’t resist giving her a wry smirk. I drewled, stopping for dramatic effect, “Thank you, dear.” “But not everyone understands this, you see?”
The throng quieted down. Then I had the screen grab of Janice’s nasty remark shining brightly on my phone, with her name and profile photo exposed.
“Unfortunately,” I said, “someone in this very room thought it was appropriate to age-shame me and my love for my husband.”
There was silence in the room. A pin could have dropped. Then all eyes turned to Janice. The color evaporated from her face, and the smile vanished as quickly as a snowball on a July afternoon. Desperate to discover a way out, her gaze flew all around the room.
“I look at Janice, and I want to make something very clear,” I said.
“You know how hurtful remarks like that can be. We’re all going to get old, and you will too someday. I hope no one makes you feel bad about your body or your love when that time arrives. And if fortune favors you, there will always be someone who adores you unconditionally. Since flawless skin is not the most attractive thing we can carry with us through life, love and happiness are.”
With a dull thud, Janice’s fancy pocketbook fell to the floor as her shoulders dropped. Her carefully applied makeup washed away as shame reddened her cheeks. Her awareness was slowly and painfully coming to her face.
“I shared this to remind us all of the importance of respect and kindness, not to embarrass anyone,” I said, my voice becoming a little softer. Never judge a person by their outward appearance—after all, I’m the one with the wrinkles today. It’s going to be you one day!”
I looked around at everyone’s faces. Most had understanding looks on their faces; others even nodded sympathetically.
My ever-supportive son Shawn gave me a comforting touch on the hand. Standing next to me, Donald once more pushed out his chest in a little gesture of support.
“Regardless of age, we should cherish each other and the love we share,” I said, feeling a wave of pride. “Now, who wants some more potato salad?”
At last, the quietness gave way to a few anxious giggles and the sound of cutlery clattering. The grilling went back on, if a little more muted. That was okay, though. I’d expressed my argument quite clearly.
A sea of red plastic cups and the fading aroma of barbecue lingered as the last of the guests trickled out. Janice came over to me as I was cleaning the table, a contented soreness beginning to build in my muscles. Her eyes were remorseful, with a red rim.
“Patsy,” she said at the start.
I turned away from the counter and gave her my whole attention. “Yes, Janice?”
She drew a tremulous breath. “I apologize so much. I was in error. I made a harsh and inconsiderate remark. Patsy, it won’t happen once more. I swear.”
I felt a rush of warmth and relief. I realized the message had been received when I heard her apologize.
I answered gently, “Janice, it takes courage to confess you made a mistake. “I appreciate you apologizing.”
For a brief period, our mutual understanding continued to simmer as we stood there.
It can be painful to deal with age-shaming, especially when it comes from family. The truth is that gray hair and wrinkles are symbols of honor and a life well spent. People who ignore this fail to realize that time is like an obstinate clock; it never stops and eventually their faces will reveal the same thing.
So what are everyone’s thoughts? Have I gone too far? Have any of you experienced anything similar? Please share your thoughts with me! Talk about your personal experiences with ageism, and let’s all remember that age is just a number!