Learn to grow old gracefully…….why??  I am not aging, I refuse to do it and I will not let it happen!

So, who is the wrinkled hag that stares, bleary eyed, from my bathroom mirror every morning?  Why does it take a cup of tea and a half hour “coming round” time, before I can function in the morning?  When did this happen to me, it sort of snuck up on me when I wasn’t looking and, it’s not fair!

Remember when we were at school and all the female teachers were old ladies?  They wore shapeless, grey skirts and finely knit woollen sweaters.  In England, they mostly wore a “twin set” which is a short sleeved knitted sweater with a matching cardigan over top.  Usually in a dull pink or “dusty rose” as it was called.

They also wore thick lisle stockings and brown brogues.  A couple of them wore men’s leather sandals and strode along like the wrath of God.  As kids we always joked that they bought their clothes from a special kind of store where they sold only old lady fashions.  In high school, all the teachers wore their black professional gowns over top of their clothes.  As they hurried along the halls the gowns would billow out behind them giving them an even more sinister silhouette.

Strangely enough, ten years later, when I was a young mom and pushing a stroller along the sidewalk, I would often meet up with one of my old teachers and, amazingly, she had not grown any older.  She was pleasant and chatty, not in the least scary, but still had the effect of reducing me back to the stuttering child of my schooldays.

Imagine my shock when, at an appointment at the baby clinic, I met one of my old teachers with her baby.  The person who I had figured to be as old as the hills was probably less than fifteen years older than me and was married, with an infant.

During my middle years I was too busy with my family to worry about growing older and it just sort of happened while I wasn’t looking.  However, for the past twenty five years I have belonged to a service group that has many much older people.  I am amazed at the energy that people in their eighties and nineties still have.  That is when I realized that growing old is not a matter of years, it is how you spend those years and keeping your mind active that defines your age.

When one of my granddaughters turned seven, the whole family, including both sets of grandparents, went to a playroom where, slides, rides and all sorts of kids games were open to all ages.  My granddaughter was afraid to go down the slide as it disappeared through a dark tunnel, so I sat her on my lap and we did the ride together.

We arrived at the bottom in a tangle of mats and shot across the floor.  I ended up with my legs up the wall and my granddaughter lying on top of me.  We were both laughing so hard that we couldn’t get out of the tangle.  My daughter helped us up and, only then, did I notice her mother in law looking at us in horror.  She was obviously appalled at my behaviour.  Yes, I looked a complete fool, but so what?  We were in the appropriate place to be acting silly, why should I feel embarrassed for enjoying myself.

That has been my attitude ever since, we only have one life, so make the most of it.  I no longer have to set a good example for my children, I can act the fool if I like, and hang the consequences.

What growing older has done for me is to give me confidence.  I am no longer worried about what other people will think if I do something silly.  If people want to put silly behaviour down to old age and second childhood, that is fine with me.  As someone once said, I may have to grow old but I do not have to mature!

Here I am, wearing my very serviceable leather sandals, summer and winter, no thick stockings, in fact no stockings at all, I have my toenails painted and on view.  I don’t want anyone to think I am an old lady, I will never be one of those!