Officially Old

  • Posted on August 27, 2013 at 2:06 pm

Life moves along at warp speed. We’re in first grade dreaming who can will write my research paper, then married with children, children leave home, college begins and gives career a new direction. Then comes semi-retirement and enjoying time with grand- and great-grandchildren. Hopefully, semi-retirement will dissolve into full retirement with hours of fun with the great-grands and maybe some traveling to see the United States’ natural wonders.

I look at varicose veins as leg art, no tattoos required. I see wrinkles as character lines created by life, most of them laugh lines. Even though my red hair is fading into the “other blonde,” I consider it a mark of maturity. Each of those OB (other blonde) hairs was earned through life experiences. They are a sign that I lived life as fully as I was able. And, perhaps the water on my brain has drained away.*

I walk a bit slower, but that gives me time to enjoy the beautiful flowers of summer. Getting up and down from the floor is now a major project, geared to make sure I remember each time I play on the floor with my great-grands. The flab under my arms is just the beginning of wings. Soon they will grow and I can fly wherever I wish to go.

At least that was the way I viewed my life until I was approached by a small child two days ago.

All of this is just a lead-in to the words that could have seared my soul, but instead gave me a good laugh at the different ways small children and older adults perceive life.

I was working in the Magic Shop at Busch Gardens Williamsburg, greeting customers, chatting about this and that and ringing up their purchases. All was well in my world. Then a little girl about six or seven years old approached me and asked, “Are you old?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Because you look old.”

Now it’s official. I’ve been declared old, not just fluffy and mature.

*When I was in elementary and middle school the other students used to say, “Sharon’s hair is red because she has water on the brain and her hair fell in and rusted.”

© by Sharon Dillon, August 27, 2013

Comments are closed.