She Only Stepped Into the Snow Once, Men'll Pause

Men'll Pause, yah, that's what I'll start with!    Not menopause, but men'll pause.

When your squeals of shock reach the ceiling and spill into the next room because some male left the toilet seat up, men'll pause.   When you shout at top-notch decibels that "for the last time, put your socks in the hamper!" men'll pause.   And when you explode with exasperated expletives for the 356th time that year that the trash piled 2 feet above the trash can prevents you from throwing anything away, men'll pause.

Menopause wasn't much discussed around our house other than mom once said her mother's took 10 years, and that they knew a woman who had a nervous breakdown during hers.

Hot flashes and my mother-in-law's night sweats, we knew about.

No one said anything about weight gain, anxiety, hair loss, mood swings and the other 26 possible symptoms.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  I researched that on google, yep, 34 Menopause Symptoms.  No, it's no joke.

Yet, it grew a joke.

You see, the men in my life, there were 9 of them counting father, brothers, hubby and sons, developed this private signal.  When one male recognizes that the female in the room is suffering menopause he puts his index finger of his right hand dead center in his forehead then gives a silent look to the guy next to him.  Like "the wave" at a ball game, a silent, all-knowing look of  "never mind" goes around the room!

Actually, it was a good thing.  Being made aware, knowing that they were aware, helped me to simmer down, to lighten up during my stressed moments.

So now I have to tell you about my mother.  She was a true lady.  Crossed her legs at the ankles, wore skirts that hit appropriately just above the knee, only a splash of lipstick, and rarely to never did you see her cry.

She determined to suffer menopause quietly, without the extras.  She never took an herb or a pill, she never asked for help, and she never complained about her situation.

One mid-winter evening just after a day or two of the white fluffy stuff coming down persistently, we were all gathered in the living room when Mom got up and went to the front door.

I looked at Dad as if to ask "what's she doing?"  Just like the other men, he only paused a second then offhandedly said, "That's your mother.  She's hot."

I took a peek through the wide open door and there she was, porch lit from the other side, just a fanning herself silly!

That was my mother.
She was going through menopause.

And as far as I know, she only stepped into the snow once.