Only a best girlfriend can give you a lotion jar with the words Oil of Old Age etched on the jar and you still love her. My best friend, Trish (aka Patty Williams Streips), gave me that gift about twenty years ago and it sits next to my kitchen sink where it reminds me of her every day. And it still makes me giggle.
Trish knew I was a fanatic user of Oil of Olay, a moisturizing cream that my mother introduced to me when I was about twenty years old. My mother insisted that I use it every day. “Just slather it on your face,” she said. Now, I didn’t often listen to my mother, but for some magical reason unbeknownst to me, this time I listened.
I use Oil of Olay religiously every single day. My mother said it would keep the wrinkles away, and it worked for her. Guess what? It’s working for me too. Not a wrinkle to be found. As I am getting older, perhaps I should double up on my usage. I wish my mother were here to tell me what to do.
This post is in In honor of both my best girlfriend, Trish, and my mother who are no longer here to use Oil of Olay.
See you soon.
Donna - author of Prisoners without Bars: A Caregiver’s Tale
I am the author of Prisoners without Bars: A Caregiver's Tale. It's the true story of how my husband almost left me--three times.