"You Know You're Getting Older When..."
June 6, 1999
"You Know You're Getting Older When..."
Bill and I attended a fun, lively theme party recently. Our friends sold their beautiful bed and breakfast, lock, stock, and barrel, and they had a "Put Her to Bed" party for everyone. We were all asked to come in pajamas (robes optional) and have breakfast (a lavish buffet). Of course, this took place in the evening, from 6:30 to 9:30 PM, and it was quite a hoot to see everyone dressed in nightgowns, flannel pjs, and clutching teddy bears, but you could sure tell that we were a bunch of old fogies. If any of us had been closer to 30 than 50 I'm sure the party would have been from 9:30 to midnight, and if we had been in our twenties, it would have been an all-nighter!
I surveyed the crowd. These were all people that I've known since we moved to Seattle, so it's been almost 20 years of friendships. One lone teenager attended the party with her parents (she was home briefly from school and wanted to see everyone). She looked around and said, "Wow. I know everybody here. It's all the old people from church!" I slapped her with her teddy bear.
No doubt about it. We WERE all the old people! Oh, I may have been the youngest one there besides the teenager, but I was a lot closer in age to most of the others than I was to her.
I suppose the biggest indicator that I'm not as young as I think I am is that I am nearing retirement...and it looks good. I envy those people who have no job ties and can travel at any time. I long to take an October excursion and thumb my nose at the teachers and students stuck in classrooms while I am out frollicking in the Fall. I actually look at ads for vans which have sleeping space, thinking that a caravan trip across country might be great fun. I'm definitely into the middle age syndrome in a big way.
It's creepy. "Old people" things that used to make me laugh derisively now seem totally sane to me. I dream of fancy cruises and organized trips instead of the "Europe through the Back Door" adventures. Oh, my.
I suppose this is a healthy change of life. I guess if I weren't making the natural transition into the golden years I'd look foolish. I'm content to let my flashy car and my tattoo be the outward signs of my youthful spirit as I sail towards the quieter, less frantic future.