Milestones

Apparently I am no longer "a woman of a certain age."

You know the term, it's what the French use for any woman between the ages of, oh, 29 and 55.  It's basically "middle aged."  I know that technically I no longer fall within those parameters, but I thought I was passing. 

Then last year my hairdresser started calling me "Sweetie."  I let it go.  Well, mostly.  I did complain to my husband about it, but I didn't make much of it. 

Then bag boys started calling me "Miss".  Now, when they first start calling you "M'am" it's a kick in the teeth.  That's how you know you've become "une femme d'une certaine age."  But when they start calling you"Miss" again -- you're old.  They call old ladies "Miss."

On our vacation, we stopped for dinner at Friendly's.  I pointed out to my husband that he qualified for the Senior's deal -- I do not.  I reminded him of it when the waiter took our order.  The waiter turned to me and said, "Do you want me to put yours in as a Senior order, too?" 

"NO!" I sputtered.  But the damage had been done. 

Yesterday I ordered coffee at a well known chain and the server gave me the senior discount without asking. Today the cashier at the office supply store called me "Honey."

Let me come clean.  I have what might reasonably be called a "matronly" figure.  But I have a fairly youthful, non-grey haircut, and I keep my clothing reasonably modern, though not ridiculously young. 

How did I become a Senior Citizen?  I'm still about 25 in my mind!  I know I have wrinkles, but I'm healthy and active, the only pills I take are vitamins.  I'm a grandmother, but I'm still working full time in a fairly demanding job.  I can still rock and roll.

There was a time when people were anxious to reach the status of being an elder -- when their life experience was valued.  I feel like my generation forfeited that when we declared you couldn't trust anyone over 30 (even though I was barely in my teens when it happened) and we can't now demand the respect that we denied our elders.  Maybe an unconscious understanding of that is why so many of my peers are trying desperately to remain young.  I'm not trying to remain young.  I just don't want to be old.

One of my grandmothers died when she was my age.  The other was "dying", though it took her nearly another 30 years to do it.  I've got so much to do, how can I ever do it all in the next 30 years?  I don't even know if I can complete my unfinished projects in that amount of time!

So now I'm wondering-- do I pass gracefully, serenely into the final stage of my life or go kicking and screaming all the way?