When Did I get so Old?

My dear friend Allyson often says, “Age is mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.” And I would say that for the first 37 years of my life, that was true. But now…I’m just over a year away from 40. And I look at myself in the mirror and wonder when I got so old.

It doesn’t help that just about everyone in the world is younger than me. Or, at least, it feels that way lately. We have been visiting one church in town since just before Christmas. By now, I suppose, “visiting” is not the precise word. We have now moved up to “attending”. But we’ve been hesitant, often asking ourselves and each other what things are absolutely essential in a church versus what things can we adjust to? Especially as this church is at least three times the size of the one we attended in Pittsburgh. So, in the spirit of learning more and getting answers, we have attended the “membership” class offered for three weeks each quarter. Us and about nine others…all of whom are newly married/engaged/single graduate or undergraduate students at Purdue. In a word: YOUNG.

In fact, as we discussed things after our first class the discussion led down a rabbit trail and Ed made a remark that it was now over 25 years since he had graduated from high school. “Ed,” I responded, “I don’t think any of those people in that class with us were even born then.”

Now how old do you think that makes us feel?

But it’s true. Even though I don’t feel like I’m about to turn 39 in just over a week, I am nowhere near 24 anymore. Now it’s not only high school students who look twelve and college students who look fifteen – grown, married adults look eighteen! Because I didn’t have children until I was 35, people who have kids the age of mine were in third grade when I was graduating from high school. And most people who are my age have kids in high school – or even college! Yes, I will be the woman at Ethan’s baseball games being asked by the other moms which little boy is my grandchild. And I think I’m old now…

It’s just a strange sensation. The idea that nearly 40 years of my life has passed is somewhat surreal. When I did become the mom in the kitchen with the other mom, talking about raising kids while getting lunch on the table? Wasn’t it just the other day that that was my mom? Or when did I become the only mom in the room, making 4½ years of marriage look like an eternity compared to six months? It was just yesterday that I was driving down to North Carolina to work a summer at camp…right? I guess not.

Time is how we measure our lives, but it’s also a rather elusive measurement. Even now, I would say that my mom was much older when she turned 40 than I’ll be when I turn 40. Which is silly. Because 40 is 40. But I would also sat that my grandma was much older at 65 than my mom now is at 65. Because in many respects, age is a matter of perspective. And while that can make me feel much better about approaching 40, it certainly doesn’t change the fact that probably no one in that membership class was potty trained (or even born) when I graduated from high school. And that doesn’t make me feel any better.