Sometimes I think I will get neck strain watching my life speed by. My granddaughter turned 16 this year -- some part of me thinks I'm still sixteen, so that really blows my mind. What I thought I knew at sixteen, and what I know she doesn't know leaves a gap big enough for an elephant brigade to walk through. Sometimes life just puzzles me. When our bodies have the energy and the flexibility to accomplish great things, our fledgling wisdom often falls short of getting us there. And yet, by the time we have accumulated the wisdom for our great task, our body seems to call us to "rest awhile." In days gone by I tackled the challenge of each day with confidence that nothing would stand in my way of adding of a checkmark next to each item on my "To Do" list. Lately I find that one checkmark per day suffices to be a productive day! I find myself thinking more and more like the heroine of the epic movie, Gone With the Wind: "After all, tomorrow's another day..."
Since I'm on this subject, umm, let's see, that was the subject of...... oh, yes! The runaway train of my life, that's it! I have to say that when I look at myself in the mirror, yes, I see a person of some age -- grayer hair (okay, it's white), pudgy midsection (okay, beyond pudgy), snores sometimes (okay, most of the time), etc, etc, etc. You get the picture. (If you don't, you will. Just wait.) However, I wonder if my view of myself is somewhat skewed? Maybe I'm in denial, but I'll deny that if you say I am. Anyway, here's the thing that initiated this line of thinking. My great-uncle, who was a bachelor most of his life, became smitten in his old age with a beautifully saucy little woman, and nothing would do but that she would become his wife. It just so happens that little woman was my grandmother (on the other side of the family -- really! What were you thinking?). To put it more plainly, my mother's uncle decided to marry my father's mother at a time of life that most people would have thought romance was dead. At least, anyone under the age of 30 probably would. In my mind, I always pictured this couple's wedded bliss to have taken place in their late 70's or even perhaps early 80's. I never really thought much about it as a child because it happened before I was born. But lately I've been thinking about it, probably because I have embarked on the overwhelming task of documenting my family's history through photographs and stories that have been passed down through the years. One said photograph is a wedding photo of my great-uncle and his bride, my grandmother. They made a lovely couple, even in their elderly-ness. But alas! What's this! The date does not lie! They were married at the tender age of 63! Oh my! Why, "oh my", you ask? Well, because! Sixty-three is my age, and I am far from elderly, am I not? (Don't answer that!) Sigh.
And so you see, not much has changed since I was sixteen after all. I thought I was grown-up then. I
think I'm young now. It seems that self-deception does not go down easily.
Since I'm on this subject, umm, let's see, that was the subject of...... oh, yes! The runaway train of my life, that's it! I have to say that when I look at myself in the mirror, yes, I see a person of some age -- grayer hair (okay, it's white), pudgy midsection (okay, beyond pudgy), snores sometimes (okay, most of the time), etc, etc, etc. You get the picture. (If you don't, you will. Just wait.) However, I wonder if my view of myself is somewhat skewed? Maybe I'm in denial, but I'll deny that if you say I am. Anyway, here's the thing that initiated this line of thinking. My great-uncle, who was a bachelor most of his life, became smitten in his old age with a beautifully saucy little woman, and nothing would do but that she would become his wife. It just so happens that little woman was my grandmother (on the other side of the family -- really! What were you thinking?). To put it more plainly, my mother's uncle decided to marry my father's mother at a time of life that most people would have thought romance was dead. At least, anyone under the age of 30 probably would. In my mind, I always pictured this couple's wedded bliss to have taken place in their late 70's or even perhaps early 80's. I never really thought much about it as a child because it happened before I was born. But lately I've been thinking about it, probably because I have embarked on the overwhelming task of documenting my family's history through photographs and stories that have been passed down through the years. One said photograph is a wedding photo of my great-uncle and his bride, my grandmother. They made a lovely couple, even in their elderly-ness. But alas! What's this! The date does not lie! They were married at the tender age of 63! Oh my! Why, "oh my", you ask? Well, because! Sixty-three is my age, and I am far from elderly, am I not? (Don't answer that!) Sigh.And so you see, not much has changed since I was sixteen after all. I thought I was grown-up then. I
think I'm young now. It seems that self-deception does not go down easily.
