***
She was always caught between doing what was right and what
was profitable. There had been many opportunities to get wealthy, obtain power,
wield influence, and make the way generally easier, but they had always been at
odds with her personal integrity. It was a price she refused to pay. The stress
induced by her struggles had accumulated and manifested itself as lines,
wrinkles, grey hair, and a fair amount of resentment. Others had prospered at
the expense of those around them while she fell behind. In her idealistic youth
she had taken comfort in the fact that she could always say that she had moved
ahead on her own merits. She was sure that in the end she would be on top. Now the
end had arrived, and she was not on top. She was actually very near the bottom.
It was a bright, sunny morning that greeted her one Saturday
in October. The autumn chill hung lightly in the air. It should have energized
her, but she had not noticed. Nature’s benevolent greeting had gone unheeded. She
walked past her bedroom window and went into her small, tidy bathroom. She
winced with each stiff step across the cold tile and cursed the ravages of age.
On her way to the toilet she paused at the sink when her reflection cast by the
chrome-framed mirror caught her peripheral vision. At least ten percent of the
silver had fallen from the back of the glass over the course of countless
mornings she had consulted it to arrange her hair or adjust her makeup. As the
glittering flakes fell from the mirror, they collected in her ever-graying
mane. She didn’t want to, but she turned to face herself in glass. Who was this
woman? Her skin was once creamy and smooth with no noticeable imperfections.
Her eyes were once bright and seemed to carry a smile all their own apart from
the rest of her face. Plump and full, her lips could catch the attention of any
man without even a hint of gloss or lipstick.
For a long time, she had held age at bay. Her beauty was
resilient and the confidence it gave her lasted well into her fifties and to a
certain extent her sixties as well. Then it all seemed to catch up. It was sudden, or so it seemed. She blamed it
on the mounting stress of her work. She started her career as a journalist for
a newspaper in a large city. Over time, she had become known as a beacon of
truth that never shied away from political thin ice. The truth was the truth
and would always stand. This was her motto and it made her a trusted source for
all things newsworthy. As her popularity among the local population soared, she
became increasingly in demand for her insight and opinions regarding people and
events that were shaping her community and the world. This led to an
opportunity for a radio talk show and eventually the television news anchor
desk at the top station in the city. In addition to her anchor duties, she
would also be asked to do investigative reporting into local businesses and
politicians. This is where the trouble started.
Bribery, threats, slanderous attacks, and personal
confrontations with the city’s elite began to take their toll. The mantle of
truth-bearer became heavier and heavier. It became harder and harder to
maintain integrity in the face of relentless attacks and temptations. She
managed to stick to her guns, but the cost was high. Health – both mental and
physical – deteriorated to a point of criticality that tore at her appearance. Worry,
mental strain, and constantly being in a mode of defense eroded her previously
ever-present smile – first into a thin line and finally a grim frown of
despair. Her eyes lost their sparkle and took on more of a teary, weeping
appearance with prominent crows’ feet and drooping lids. Her once glowing skin
became ashen and crisscrossed with bluish veins and cross-hatched lines.
The almost alien face with all its wear and tear glared back
at her from the bathroom mirror. In it she saw something. It was a spark of
life. It was the last vestige of fire from her youth that drove her to stand up
for what she believed in now and to count the cost later. Out from under the
layers of fatigue, anger, bitterness, and dissatisfaction it challenged her. It
was the dying embers of a life that refused to be snuffed out without a fight.
It stirred her. She would not quit now. She finished her trip to the toilet,
hastily brushed her teeth and hair, and threw on some clothes. (It didn’t
matter which ones.) Stepping into her shoes on the way to the door, she
confidently strode across the living room of her apartment. She grabbed the doorknob
in her hand and gave it a determined twist. Boldly – almost defiantly – she
threw the door open to reveal the outside world to her recharged mind and body.
The cool air brushed against her face and swirled around her feet. Her knee
began to ache, and she went back to bed.
