Feeling My Age

Well, it's probably past time that I should. And if I'm being honest, I've been feeling it in pieces for quite a while now.

I started wearing bifocal glasses when I was in my late forties. I've had arthritic knees for at least as long. I've had arthritis in the vertebrae in my lower back for about two years. My hair's been greying for at least ten years and I finished menopause five years or so ago.

But was I aging? Not in my mind. In my mind, I had the same body image that I had in my thirties, mirrors and clothes sizes notwithstanding. The thing that's really brought me to some sort of realization, oddly enough, is Facebook.

On Facebook, I'm friends with people I know because of my job, that I've worked with, that I've met in the last few years. but I'm also friends with a bunch of people that I've known since high school and before. I'm friends with a guy I've known since I was five and now I'm friends with a woman that grew up in the same garden apartment I did in Montclair, NJ. I've known her probably since I was seven or so, because she's a few years younger than I am.

There was a pack of about eight kids that played together. The age spread was about five years from the oldest to the youngest. I was probably in the older third and this woman, girl then, was in the younger third. I remember a couple of things about playing with her. Probably the thing I remember best, though not to my credit, was this time she was going to race off to the play yard. She yelled something like, "The last one there's a rotten egg," turned, took three steps, and ran smack into a tree. I laughed so hard -- it was just like a cartoon -- that I nearly fell over. She wasn't hurt and the play went on without her even going to the house.

So in my mind she's this round-faced kid, with braids and freckles. I saw a picture of her on FB and, well, she's still got the freckles.

And I still have this mole on my cheek, and pretty much the same smile from the time I was a little girl. But I'm not thirty or forty. I'm nearly sixty and cannot tell you how weird this is.