Dear Ann Landers,
've been a widow for five years. When my husband died I never dreamed I could ever be interested in another man. But the wounds have healed. I am forty-eight years old and look every day of it. My figure is trim, and with the help of a beautician I've kept the gray out of my hair. But it's the small pouches under my eyes and my sagging jowls that give me away. If I had a little surgery, I would look ten years younger. When I see the attractive divorcees who have youth and beauty on their side, I realize the competition is razor sharp. The woman who looks thirty-eight is sure to get more chances than the woman who looks forty-eight. Be realistic, Ann, do I see the plastic surgeon or not?-Mirrors Don't Lie

,