Age is what you make it

One thing is inevitable-—we will all keep getting older. We don’t have to admit it, though.

I had a startling experience recently. While I was approaching the check-in desk for my six-year-old’s Sunday school class, two little boys had a short discussion about who we were. The first boy said, “Oh that’s the Bentleys.” The second boy, impressed, said, “Wow. How did you know that?” to which the first boy replied, “Oh, that’s his grandmother. She always brings him.” Ouch.

It’s not fair. I still feel like I’m in my twenties inside. Young enough to do crazy things, but old enough to know better. Mostly because it hurts when I hit the ground.

The worse thing people do is start acting old as they age. They stop being active, stop learning new things and get into a lethargic routine. They watch Coronation Street loudly; drive twenty kilometers below the speed limit in good weather; get up before the sun rises and go to bed before it sets, which, admittedly, even young people do in the north at certain times of the year.

Hair is a big issue for people as they age. It tends to migrate south, like the snow birds. The best thing a fellow can do is go with it. Don’t try to hide it with the notorious comb-over, or compensate with a pony tail. If people say it looks cool, don’t believe them. They are laughing behind your back.

For women, I think it’s a much more complicated issue. I always thought I’d let nature take it’s course, and I would not try to hide the gray. That was until I spotted the first ‘wisdom’ strand. Out it came, soon to be replaced with three of its friends.

My main reason for the colour remedy is that my husband doesn’t have any gray hair yet. Bad enough people think I’m my son’s grandma, without people thinking I’m my husband’s mother. That would not be good.

Seldom do we hear about all the positive aspects of aging. For one, a person passes the age of caring what others think. This can be good, and bad. Most eccentrics are middle-aged or older. Colour coordinating clothes don’t matter any more to some folks, and others go so far as blabbing about all their crazy ideas and opinions, until no-one visits any more. I hope I don’t become one of those folks. Or if I do, I hope someone tells me, instead of just not coming around.

“Hey, Grandma. Do you realize you are scaring off all the grand kids with that wacky hair colour and weird outfit? And do you have to drive around blasting Cyndy Lauper’s ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ all over the place? The neighbours think you’re crazy.”

The trick to aging well is to keep active, keep learning, keep hair colour close to normal, yet still have fun while not frightening anyone.