If Age is Just A Number, What’s the Rest of This Crap?


We returned from a weekend away at dinner time. We had stopped at Pazani's, a local Italian place, and picked up our dinner to eat at home. It had been a long day of driving. I needed a fork and knife, so I grabbed them from the dishwasher. I was certain I had started it shortly before we left the house, so I figured they were clean. John wasn't sure. He asked me twice about it and kept pulling out different items and inspecting them for evidence of them having been or not been washed. Well, the next morning I was still certain I had run the dishwasher prior to leaving, but I hadn't had a chance to empty it yet. I was enjoying my cereal from a bowl and spoon pulled from said dishwasher when John found a minimally dirty knife. Hummm. He said, “This doesn't look clean.” OK, maybe the dishwasher didn't run after all. The first thought I had was, “Oh my gosh! I just did something I think old people do!” Noooooo! In my defense, I do almost completely wash everything before it even goes into the dishwasher, which was why it was so hard to tell. But, I was bummed. It seemed like something an “old” person would do. The forgetting, the eating from semi-clean silverware, the whole ordeal. I was more upset about the fact that I hadn't started the dishwasher, as I had intended, than I was about eating from potentially “dirty” dishes. That just screams old person, to me.

Likewise, I noticed that during my recent visits with both kids, I found myself saying, “We're getting older.” I think I said that to Alyssa at least twice, although I can't recall under what circumstances. The other day, I found myself saying, “You don't know how young you kept me!” to Alex. I said those words (or something similar to those words, I can't recall them exactly. (Surprise! Surprise!), as I was walking around trying to find something or remember to do something. I felt like an old person again. It was several times in one week! But, I realized I felt and seemed (to myself, anyway) so much younger when the kids were still at home. My youngest has only been gone seven months. Have I really entered the world of the “old person” in that short amount of time? How can that be possible? Who knows? But, apparently it is so.

As a result of all these “incidents,” I started a list. It's a list of things I think point to me being at or near the “Top of the Hill.” I'll share them in another post. Maybe I will prepare a Top Ten on ways Age is Just a Number AKA Ways I still am young and active — just to get my focus back onto the younger side of “the hill.” In the meantime, I'm staying away from shawls, rocking chairs, restaurants between the hours of 4:30 and 6:00 PM, ointments, salves, or any form of medicinal creams, discussions centered around body parts and how they may or may not be working, including minor surgical procedures, and Etc.



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