Feeling older

Kelley turned twenty-six over the weekend. That means for the next three weeks we will be the same age and then inevitably I will be twenty-seven. Twenty-seven, to me, does not feel particularly old. I don’t feel like what I think a 27 year old person should feel like. Don’t ask me what that is, I just don’t think I feel it. I still maintain that after turning 21, what’s the difference? A quarter of a century sounds old, but I don’t feel old.

Plus the gray hairs on my head do not particularly worry me. Both my parents went gray (or white) early enough that is hard to imagine either with hair another color. And I have a friend who is bald (in college) so to me hair is an accessory, not an age calculator. I am pretty sure that Kelley does not feel this way about her gray hairs. She always tries to pull mine out and when I resist settles for rearranging my other hairs to cover them up.

What makes me feel old is talking to a former classmate and fellow teacher (mother of one or two) who is busily planning our high school ten year reunion. Ten years. Wow. Now that makes me feel old. And I wonder… have I accomplished at least some of the things I thought I wanted to do when I was proud to graduate in the class of ninety-nine?

To be truthful, I have not kept in contact with too many people I graduated with. One, a lot of them are sort of grown up, married, settled, and are starting to make babies. Me, I am still flying solo and doing whatever the hell I please in my youthful exuberance to do what I want to do. Two, I don’t really have a lot in common with most of them because of reason one. Three, it is a hard thing to keep up and sometimes it also does not seem worth the effort.

But now… now I have a ten year reunion to think about. Especially since I have volunteered to help a bit. Hmmm. It is still a whole year away, but it gives me reason to ponder.