I think my fingerprints are disappearing. I wish I had an ink pad in the house so I could test out my observations. I could commit a crime and get inked up at the police station but that might cause a ruckus at the booking desk when they see what I see. Or rather what I don’t see---ridges in the skin on my finger tips. Where did they go? Does this happen to all old people? The next time I’m at the senior hall would I dare to line up a few ladies and do an inspection to compare their fingers to mine? When I was a kid my brother and I had a Dick Tracy Detective Kit so we could fingerprint each other and the cat. I wish I still had it which just goes to shows if you keep something long enough you'll find a use for it again. One of those kits sold recently for $100 on e-Bay. I suppose if I looked through my husband’s container of comic book hero radio premiums I might actually have a Dick Tracy detective badge in the house. I wonder if it would get me into the police station so I could fingerprint myself. I also wonder if I should be putting these thoughts down in writing at my age. I can see my nieces standing in front of a judge using my blog as evidence that he needs to sign those commitment papers in front of him. Not yet, girls! Not yet.
Growing old has its good and bad points. Growing old without
your soul mate doesn’t have one darn thing to recommend it to anyone other than
the Wicked Witch of the West but if memory serves me right from my fairytale
reading days she wasn’t able to land a husband. So I’m guessing she never had a
soul mate to lose. Hummm---that might be a good idea for a spin-off if I was
into writing such things. The Wicked Witch of the West meets Baldwyn the
Bastard from Bolivia
and they have---you guessed it---a storybook romance that includes casting
spells on virgins and castrating pigs, the four-legged kind. (“Good Eats!” as
Alton Brown from the Food Network would say.) All kidding aside, why does the
Great Kahuna in the sky separate soul mates, churning out widows like Land
O’Lakes does butter? You’d think he/she would see the value in keeping soul
mates in boxed sets while we’re here on earth that gets more valuable over time
like old Dick Tracy crime stopping kits do.
Do you believe in soul mates or is it just something made up
to explain why we are drawn to stay monogamous to someone we’ve pledged our lives
to---someone with similar life goals, values and taste in crystal stemware? Do
you believe we can find another soul mate after losing one? If I get my head
out fairytales long enough I’d admit I believe soul mates are not only possible
but it’s possible to have more than one soul mate in a lifetime---the old
karmic soul mate and twin flames debate. Insert the fairytale mode back in my
brain and I’d say, “Hell, no! Only one soul mate per customer and make your
purchase last through the annals of time.” Soul mates are forever, I’d state
with conviction. We keep finding each other when we’re recycled back on earth
and in between times when we’re drifting around in the Great Unknown. Soul
mates live happily ever after in storybook land. End of story. No buts about
it.
From all accounts souls don’t take any form we can see,
touch or hold so how will we find one another again in the next realm of
existence? Are we just spinning around out there like clothes in a dryer hoping
to meet up again, not knowing we’re already like a sock clinging to the inside
of a pant leg? How many times have you looked for a lost sock, not knowing you’re
already wearing it in the most unlikely place? I think our souls could be like magnetic
jigsaw puzzle pieces that grab out and lock in place as we’re spinning in the
universe. I think our souls have unique fingerprint-like IDs that don’t wear
out like fingertip ridges do on old ladies who type too damn much. ©
