Putting things in perspective

When I was a little girl, I remember listening to Helen Reddy sing "Delta Dawn" and the line, "she's 41 and her daddy still calls her baby" would always make me picture this old lady with stringy gray hair, sitting all hunched over at the bus station with her ratty, moldy suitcase. But I heard that song recently, and at age 42, picture a beautiful, vibrant yet insane woman poised expectantly upon a bench, a Louis Vitton bag by her side.

But I still have to remind myself that I'm over 40 and no longer wet behind the ears. Last summer, at a family picnic, I enthusiastically participated in a game of volleyball. It didn't occur to me at the time that my teammates and opponents were half my age. I kicked some serious volleyball butt. However, the next morning when I had to ask my husband to lift my legs off the bed and onto the floor and was unable to brush my teeth without wincing, I remembered my age.

And now it seems like every other week, another friend or colleague loses a parent. Another sign of getting older before you're ready to grow up. And when we discuss it among ourselves, we're all dismayed that so many parents have gone so quickly. Then we nod and say, "we're at the age now." It's a new ache each month and another parent gone.

Then, you figure you'd better start reading the obituaries to make sure you don't miss a funeral and suddenly you discover that a lot of those people who are out there dying are your age, too.
An old schoolmate or someone you used to work with drops dead of a heart attack. So, the next day we're all on the phone, making appointments for physicals before we drop dead too.

Getting older really isn't a whole lot of fun. But it sure beats the alternative.

THE SUPREME WISDOM OF THE QUEENOSHEBA

It's all part of the circle of life, Simba.