I mean… I’m close, just a year off generally. But for some reason I just can’t seem to get a grip on the correct number. If you were to ask me – just flat out “Hey weese, how old are you?” Please don’t be surprised to get a deer-in-the-headlights look.
I am not in any way ashamed or embarrassed about my age. In fact, I revel in it. I wear my gray hairs proudly, never considering a bottled potion to cover them up. I am getting wrinkled, and have certainly noticed gravity’s strong hold.
It’s simply that I get confused about the specific number. Ah… does it really matter? What’s in a number anyway?
There are milestones of course. 1, 16, 18 (or 21 these days). After that we make milestones of the decades - 30, 40, 50 and so on.
Why do we do that? Why is 40 any more important than say… 42, or 38. I suppose it shouldn’t be – perhaps its just a way to pass the time.
I remember the day I turned 30, and I wondered if just by turning from 29 to 30 overnight, would I suddenly feel more like an adult? Would I feel grown up?
We had young kids, our first house, a puppy, new cars… all the things that equate us with actual, tax-payin’ grown ups.
Yet I still felt so … like I was in my 20’s.
Nothing happened that day.
And so I waited.
I waited another decade.
And when I turned 40 – I thought surely now I am an adult. Crap, I am middle aged. But still… I really felt no different. Well… aside from a couple new twinges here or there, and maybe the need for some 2 dollar magnifying glasses. I felt just the same. Just like me. Just like any other day.
I can say some things for certain as I am careening through my 40’s. Lots of things are changing now. My attitude has mellowed from my 30’s and my innards are gearing up for a transition and reminding me about then whenever they can. But at the end of the day – even tho the end of the day is now a few hours earlier than it used to be, I still feel a lot like person who thought they might grow up after 30.
I am still hoping to grow up… maybe when I turn 50.
Happy Birthday Teresa,
do you know how old you are?
9 comments:
Well said, Weese. And please don't ever truly grow up. ;)
Nice.
"does anybody really know..." --sorry, Chicago popped in my head.
Very neat post.
I'm often startled when I realize I'm a grown-up, because I still feel very much like I'm trying to figure out what I want to be then. In the past I've chalked up such confusion to not having experienced the milestones that typically tell us when to grow up, like marriage and childbirth, but here you are busting that theory to pieces.
When it comes down to it, we're all pretty much faking it, aren't we?
Life is far more fun if you don't grow up!
BTW, I can never remember how old I am either, I have to stop and do the math.
Faking it.
Ayup.
That sounds about right.
Well, you had us kids fooled the whole time. I think that part is key. :)
So here I am approaching 30 in less than 2 weeks...
I get this feeling every time I walk into my big house and see my husband and all of our grown-up stuff: "I'm a kid and getting away with something."
I am glad this is normal.
I work in an industry where 40 is exceedingly young for anyone to be doing much but keeping his or her head above water. I regularly hear that I'm, "really young." It's nice.
I'm 43... but only until December 6th.
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