50 is the new 30…

I will be 51 years old next Friday. I don’t usually talk about my age because hey–I may be many things, but old is not one of them—and 51 sounds really old to me. I was looking at a picture of my grandparents the other day and realized that she was maybe ten years older than I am now when they had that picture taken. Wow. How did I get to be my grandmother’s age?!! It was bad enough when I turned 40. I remember my mom’s 42nd birthday and I thought she was old then. Now I am over the half century mark so what does that make me?! Does the saying “old as dirt” mean anything to you?!

So what does growing old mean to you? Better yet, what do you consider to be “old” when it comes to age? Is it a number or a mindset? I still think of myself as about 30 something. (Of course this illusion is getting harder to maintain as my daughters move into their twenties, so I decided I would stop counting birthdays at 39…) Has your perspective changed as you or your parents or your children grow older? What age did you finally realize that you were grown up? Or have you grown up?! Are there things you find you can’t do even though technically you know you can because you are an adult? For instance, to this day I cannot address any of my teachers from school by their first names, even though as an adult I can do so without being considered rude. Just. Can’t. Do. It!

Okay. Feel free to discuss this amongst yourselves. When this blog goes live I will be sitting on the beach under my umbrella in Santa Cruz, California, sipping a margarita while reading a great romance or two… This is my birthday tradition. Started it the year I turned 40. The girls and I go to Santa Cruz every year for my birthday and ride the Giant Dipper roller coaster on Boardwalk. Not bad, eh? As traditions go, I think it’s a pretty good one… See you in a couple of days!