Most days, friends, I don’t feel my age. Sure, I can’t sleep through the night anymore without multiple potty runs and hot flashes, and my knees have wrinkles, but generally I go about my business as if I’m a seasoned 30- something. Recently, however, I was forcibly reminded that I’m nearly eligible for full AARP benefits. What happened? I hosted a bridal shower for one of my best friend’s daughters. Her daughter! The horror!
How is it possible that our kids are old enough to get married? That my own children are technically “grown-ups” and that, like my friend, I might soon be hunting down a pair of 1996 champagne flutes so the happy couple can toast with the same glasses their parents used. But that’s the world I’m currently operating in. I’m on the other side of 50, and if I’m not wearing my readers, party games become powerful time warps where long-retired ‘80s pop stars are suddenly back on tour (“Um, Mrs. Wilson, I think you mean Maluma, not Madonna”).
And what’s next? Babies? For the love of all that is holy! It seems crazy to me that I could realistically become a grandmother at any time. Not that I wouldn’t be amazing. Are you kidding me? I’d be the best gosh-darn Mamaw that ever lived. But the point is, the person in the mirror doesn’t look like someone’s mother-in-law, let alone a grammy.
Anyhoo, the shower was certainly a reality check, and one that I’m not entirely sure I’m OK with. Despite the slightly elevated cholesterol and random white brow hairs, I just don’t feel that old!