On occasion, I’ve overheard someone remark how an elderly lady has “aged so gracefully.”
I’m not even aiming for the gracefully part. I’m just trying to do it without the “kicking and screaming” part.
And rumor has it that a person reaches maturity somewhere in this process of growing older. Unfortunately, I’m still looking for it.
Truly, why does it bother me to think of myself getting old? Am I so vain that I don’t want the wrinkles, gray hairs, dentures, hemorrhoid cream, and bifocals? Well . . . . . . . .
If you must put it that way – yes, I’m vain.
On the other hand, the truth is really this. The years added to me are simply one more to tack onto that double number. But it also means one more year has passed in which my darling children are growing up, up, and away from me.
I know. I will always be a sappy mom. That will not change no matter how many candles you stack on my cake.
However, being vain and sappy sounds a notch more dignified than kicking and screaming. So I’ll take it!
And for those of you wondering how old I truly am – – I’m still closer to 20 than I am to 60. Looks like you’ll have to keep guessing . . .