Did you ever look in the mirror and wonder just who was that old gray-haired person looking back at you? I have. And, after checking to see who had come up behind me, realized there was no one there but me. Wasn’t it Robert Burns who said something like, “Oh, that God the gift would give us, to see ourselves as others see us.” I’m not sure I agree with that. I might change it to something like, “Oh, that God the gift would give others, to see us as we see ourselves.” Inside, I still feel that I’m 16 but I’m pretty sure that’s not what others see when they look at me.
Shouldn’t I by this time in my life, be a fount of wisdom for the younger generations? (I say this tongue in cheek) It isn’t often they ask my opinion, so while conversation flows around me, I nod wisely now and then and practice my “silent sage” look. Of course, I have a few wise words ready, if needed, such as, “Ah.” “I see.” “Hmm.” And I’ve learned never to date myself with terms like, “I remember when”; “seems to me”; “as I recollect”:or that expression that forever lumps me with Senior citizens: “When I was young…”
I really need to leave these terms back in the past where they belong: “Oh, pshaw; Land of Goshen; Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle, Flat as a pancake; What did you come after, a coal of fire; Poor as a churchmouse;” And then a few from my younger years, “He’s (she’s) a real square; Cool; Groovy; Later.”
Perhaps I should write a Book of Encouragement for those of us who need help in realizing that although we feel like we’re sixteen years old, being a teenager happened some time back in the 1950s. Of course, I have all this accumulated wisdom gleaned by experience which I would gladly share with others. If they would only ask!
The Bible says that I am to renew my mind (a very good idea when tempted to dwell on the past), and to bear with the infirmities of others. I assume this means that I should bear those infirmities silently and not point them out because another Scripture reminds me, “Set a guard over my mouth, Lord” (Psalm 141:3).
As I look out my front room window at my quiet street, I realize that most of the neighbors who pass by are younger than I am. In fact, so far as I know, only one person on this street is older. Let me hasten to add, it’s a short street! But shouldn’t that give me a right to a title like, The Dowager Duchess or The Woman of Wise Words or something like that? To date, no one has suggested I should have a title and I admit I’m pretty content to be simply called Mem by my two members of the very youngest generation.
To be honest, as I look back on my younger days, some of those learning experiences were painful; in fact, a few were no fun at all. And today, well, today although the person in the mirror tells me I might no longer be able to shinny up a tree or swing up on a horse’s back from a tree stump or run down a rocky lane barefoot, I’m pretty content with this season of life. And I’m actually not a fount of wisdom because I learn something every day. The older I get, and the more I know, the more I realize I don’t know. But that’s OK. I like being me. It’s cool. Groovy.
Far out, auntie!