The Art of Aging

When do you give up the moniker "middle aged" and just say "old?"  I think I may be nearing that point in my life. Tell-tale signs:

• I have to increase the print size to "large" as I type this--and that is with the progressive bifocals on the face.  New prescription.  No excuses.
• When I hear "Grandma" called out in a store, I immediately whip around.  I don't do that for "Mom" or "Mommy" any longer.
  
• I receive senior citizen discounts at Dunkin' Donuts without asking.  That one really hurts.  Prairie Eydie wants to know why I go to Dunkin' Donuts.  This doesn't seem to be in keeping with my organic, all natural image.  Everyone needs a half dozen Munchkins now and then.  (Sharon.  I just have an image of the Wizard of Oz Munchkins.  I am pretty sure NO ONE needs a 1/2 dozen Munchkins, ever.  Prairie Eydie.)
• Now when I have to check off a box expressing my age on surveys and forms I have to go awaaaaaaaaay down to the bottom.
• A student asked me if I had voted for Herbert Hoover in the presidential campaign of 1928.  I realize that 8th graders have little understanding of age, but really.  Actually I was pretty impressed that the kiddo even knew about Herbert Hoover, let alone put him in the correct century.
• My daughters have ceased making jokes when the AARP advertisements come in the mail.  One daughter asked me if I would consider a Life Line when the last one leaves for college. She was serious.
• The doctor just told me that I need to have a couple of varicose veins taken care of this fall.  Compression stockings are in my future.

I have never acted my age.  When in high school I was a bit socially awkward (understatement), and secretly pulled out my Barbie dolls now and then.  I still have them.  Once an adult, for the longest time I had this notion that my age had locked at 18.  I felt like I was playing a game as I did very adult things like teaching, traveling through Europe, and buying my first house.  I became a mom in my mid thirties, adopting my last daughter at age 45.  I didn't marry until I was 50...The list goes on. 

My grandmother never would have
worn one of my necklace creations.

I have everything in place to be a great little old lady.  I have always been known to be a bit eccentric.  While I will never have a house full of cats, I am two cockapoos into a house full of dogs.  I like to putter around the house, and I have always considered puttering to be an important part of the aging process.  I live in a wonderfully creative and tolerant community that doesn't look twice when an aging female doesn't dress her age.  No house dresses for me!  I will be wearing flowing, flowered skirts with my compression hose.  I have very close friendships with like-minded females who will grow old with me. Most importantly, I have my three daughters and two grandchildren who seem, for the most part, to tolerate and even enjoy being around me.

For me, the most important part of the aging process to to keep my creativity alive and nurtured.  I want to keep reading, learning, writing, and doing my artsy-fartsy stuff.  Retirement isn't in my near future, but once the teaching gig is done (starting year 35), I can't imagine that I won't have a job somewhere.  I may be the oldest seller at the farmers' market at some point.  They'll have to prop me up by that scale and keep my oxygen tank away from the grill.

This is one of Eydie's creations.
Beauty comes at any age.

Prairie Sherry

"Sharon? Sharon?  I think she
overdosed on Munchkins."