There’s been a lot of talk in my family about age and birthdays lately.Yesterday, my daughter left her teenage years and is now 20. TWENTY! Twenty years ago I gave birth to her. It’s gone so so so fast. Twenty years ago I was in MY twenties. Sometimes I feel like 20, but I look in the mirror and see someone who’s definitely not 20 anymore.
Now, I’m 48. Nearly 50! FIFTY. My husband is already fifty. Amazing. In the past five years my skin on my hands has lost some elasticity. No more pulling it up and having it spring back immediately. It weirdly stays suspended for a second. And it’s all alligator-like. I told my mom I have old lady hands. She told me, “No yours are bad yet. Just wait!” haha Unlike my husband, I’m not grey at all. Yet. But I’m having some older-age health issues. I’d trade them all for a head of salt-and-pepper hair if I could, even though illnesses have their own blessings.
My Dad is 71 today. SEVENTY ONE years old! Amazing. Mom’s 70. Dad says he can’t believe he’s married to a seventy year old. haha My Dad is still a little kid, really. He says funny things in rhyme all the time. I always go “Oh Dad…” and roll my eyes, like I’m still a teenager. His stuff is that ridiculous. He’s been a plumber all his life, and still says goofy stuff like “If it’s yellow, let it mellow. If it’s brown, flush it down.” Immature. Like a kid.
My Aunt Dot – she turns 90 this year. NINETY!!! Wowee way to go, Aunt Dot. She has a 4th of July barbeque each year. I went two years ago – I don’t know how many more she’s going to be having. Her house looks and smells and feels the same as it did when I was 7.
My grandmother died when I was 7 months pregnant with my son, 16 years ago. She was 96. She was healthy and vital until her last couple of years. She was born in the 1800’s, lived through WWI and WWII, in which Grandpa fought. She survived four heart attacks and the death of my Grandpa in the ’60’s. I asked her one day if she remembers when Amelia Earhart (my childhood hero) went down. I asked her if she remembers before there were cars and planes. I’m sure I was wide-eyed listening to her talk about watching horses and buggies go up and down the front of her house in Ohio.
Dear God, I hope I live to be over 90, in good health, vital, with old lady skin and white hair, I want to take walks with my grandkids and take them out for ice cream and buy them books, like Grandma did with me.
Old age is something I look forward to experiencing.