Who's Grandma?

My husband and I boarded a plane to Minneapolis today. Even though I had purchased the tickets a month ago, our seats weren't together. In the terminal, I stood in a long line to see if we could change them, a slim chance for a full flight. I struck up a conversation with the young woman (30's or 40's?) behind me in line and, after a few minutes she said, "Why don't you go sit down and you can get in line when I reach the desk. If anyone asks I'll tell them you're my grandma."

Grandma? I took her advice and sat down but I was in shock. I couldn't possibly be her grandma - could I? Her mother maybe - but her grandma? I had the urge to go immediately to the bathroom and study my face in the mirror. Was there a new wrinkle - or wrinkles? I was dressed in cargo pants, t-shirt and tennis shoes. Wasn't that youthful? My hair is dyed the auburn color of my youth. And I certainly don't feel old enough to be her grandma. Fifty maybe, but certainly not grandma age.

But, alas, I had to face the truth. I am old enough to be her grandma. In fact, I am a grandma only my granddaughter is much younger. How did this happen? Only yesterday I was raising children, then seeing them through adolescence and my own mother through old age. You think you're never going to get there until, suddenly, you are.

My friends are all grandmas and a few are even great- grandmas. Too often now we're having conversations about what we will do when ---- the "when" left open to surmise - a stroke, dementia, Parkinson's, cancer, any debilitating disease. In fact, my daughter-in-law is dealing with this at the moment; trying to help her parents make the change from their long-time home to assisted living.

We are all hyper-aware of limitless changes: how often am I forgetting words; did I leave the stove on again? Does this constant pain in my side mean cancer or a heart attack? How will I die? It's the next phase of our life and the hardest because we know, all of my contemporaries, that it's the last. Time is no longer limitless.

But knowing time is no longer limitless can also be a good thing. After all, does anybody at any age know how much time they have left? So instead of worrying about "the end", we can also think about this as a beginning. We know our time is limited so spend ten minutes on the "organ recital", as a friend calls our tendency to talk about physical ills, and then move on. Learn something new- kayaking, knitting, stain glass design, painting - or join a book group, attend lectures, study geometry (I hate geometry but someone may love it.) or start a blog! And that's my personal inoculation against old age. Keep writing and maybe, just maybe, I'll stay young forever.

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/8703870