Most women over 50 will agree that nothing would make us trade-in our age and the way we feel about ourselves now (wrinkles and all) to return to our teen years and all of that angst: the pressures to fit-in… the insecurities… the pimples? No thank you!
Although I try not to dwell on the number of candles that will be adorning my next birthday cake, I’ve never felt particularly old. Yes I have aches and pains and, yes, I can’t push myself like I used to. But, when I get sufficient rest and take care of my physical needs, I consider myself pretty spry. In fact, in many ways, I feel younger than I felt in my late thirties when I came upon the realization that my youth was past me. But yesterday my youthful outlook got a real jolt and it came as a total surprise…
I had an encounter that in most respects was everyday and mundane. I was at a station waiting for my train home when a young man approached. He had a notebook in his hand, was nicely dressed in age-appropriate high school attire, and was exceedingly polite. He needed donations for his basketball team (or at least that’s what he said) so that they could take a trip. His story was plausible, as I know this area to be far from wealthy, so I thought I’d donate a few dollars to the cause.
As I was digging around in my purse for my wallet, he continued his polite banter and asked if I played sports when I was in high school. Without thinking, I replied: “When I was in high school, girls didn’t play organized sports.” I could see the brief but telling look of shock cross his face and I knew he was thinking, “How old is this dinosaur?”
Sometimes it’s the littlest moments that have the greatest impact. This was one of those moments for me. For those of you who are regular readers, you know I’m exceedingly proud of all that our generation of women has achieved. Yet it’s true that time marches on and those memories so fresh in our minds are becoming antiquated customs of times gone by.
When I was growing up in the sixties, I remember thinking how cool the 1920s must have been…with the Charleston, bobbed hair, and women first feeling their oats. But still, I figured those days to be ancient history to say the least. Now I’ve realized that it was a mere forty years between those two decades…and five decades have passed between the sixties and now. WOW!
So my little moment was one more big reminder for me that life is short and that we need to make the most of our remaining days. Let’s vow to make our legacy a lasting one and fulfill our boomer destiny by becoming feisty old gals known for our spirit: audacious, bodacious and bold. After all, a synonym for dinosaur “thunder lizard” and—no doubt about it—they did rule the earth for millennia!