The Steps of Aging

Lately I've been doing a lot of thinking about aging.

Over on Maria's blog, Just Eat Your Cupcake, in one of her posts last month she talked about how she felt a bit out of sync with her Easter guests (my paraphrasing). I'm right there with you, Maria. We spent Easter day and evening with a family we share a lot in common, but timing isn't one of those things. Our friends, Diana and Jerry, are parents to Michael and Ryan. Diana and Jerry were both born the year I graduated high school. But Ryan is the same ages as Katie, and Michael is a few years younger than Megan.

Nearly ALL the parents we schmooze with are much, much younger than we are. I mean, our own children are the ages of what our grandchildren could have been, had we had any kids in our early twenties. Especially the lesbian parents. They are sooo young, it feels like we have so little in common.

Um. Now I really do feel old.

Once I left college (which I started when I was 25, after six years in the US Navy - another blog topic for another day...), I always felt just a little out of step with my friends and co-workers. Maybe even a little wiser, I'd think to myself very smugly. That was then.

Now, I feel as if I am always trying to keep up with these young whipper-snappers. And I’m not talking about the kids!

Tangentially, my oldest sibling is my half-brother and he is eleven years older than me. I am the youngest. The "baby." I have a brother ten years older than me - he nearly died last year. His wake-up call finally came, at 62. Now he is belatedly taking care of himself, I think he finally grew up.

Takes some of us longer than others, I guess. We have a full-sister that is younger than both my brothers, but older than me - and she was given up for adoption. (Yup. Another blog topic to explore. Anyone making a list?) She found us a few years ago. It's odd to go 50 years of life thinking I'm the only girl-child, and then learn I have a sister. Hard to wrap my sense of self so differently.

Now, parents are aging and dying. My Mom is 82 and she just keeps going and going like the Energizer Bunny. She has a hard time getting up and down stairs, but is doing okay. I do worry about her, alone in the house I grew up in, now that Dad is gone. But, she says she will stay in that house as long as she can take care of herself. She has friends look in on her, my niece and her husband keep an eye on her, my bother and I drive or fly up there whenever we can, or when we’re needed.

It makes me wonder what life for Kandy and I will be like as we age. We have no family locally. I worry a bit about that, when I’m not worrying about day to day things. I wonder if even then I’ll feel out of sync…