The Adult in the Room...

Yesterday I kept repeating to myself, I'm 57. All day long. I'm 57. I'd look in the mirror. Fifty. Seven.

For whatever reason this age is a hard one to wrap my head around. It's not like I'm horrified that I'm 57, or that I've suddenly become one of those people who worries about getting old. It's just that I can't really grasp that I'm 57. Fifty seven just seems like it should be something significant. Fifty seven seems like an age where I would, I don't know, be 57.

My mother used to tell me that it always shocked her to look in the mirror and see a little old lady looking back out. That she never really felt any different than when she was in her 20s. She just never felt like that old lady was her. Which always sort of made me laugh because of course she was that old lady. And she was my mother so of course she was an adult not some kid in her 20s.

My dad was 56 when I graduated high school. Also the year I got married. I've just now passed the last age my father was when I was living with my folks. But my dad was a solid 56. Like super adult. He had grandkids and everything. So adult.

And adults just looked more adult back then than they do now. I know a lot of it is clothing, that when we see pictures of people from past decades we see the older clothing and feel like the person in the photo is older. And not just the older clothing but Generation X really stopped "age appropriate" dressing as a rule. We pioneered casual Friday and then conquered the rest of the week as well. I know people who are still wearing the concert t-shirts they got in high school.

My style has changed from those years, but not by much. I'm more likely to wear a dress now than I was then, but that's because we ditched the pantyhose requirements. Good riddance. But you're also just as likely to see me in jeans and a t-shirt. Or lately in these really flowy genie pants that I'm loving. But I would have worn those in high school if I'd had access to them. With no shoes. So not much has changed.

But I'm still 57. Doesn't matter if my wardrobe is still 18. My child is (stops to do the math) going to be 33 this year. I cannot even still be in my 30s because she is.

And again, I'm not freaked out about aging. I'm more bothered that I don't feel like what I think 57 should feel like.

Which I cannot tell you what that is, but it seems significant.

Brent and I talked about this last night and he agreed. Fifty seven seems like a jump for some reason. Maybe because at 56 you're still thinking 55 which is solidly mid 50s and now it's more like pushing 60. And 60 really seems like it should be old, but it's only a few years away and it's clearly not old. We have friends in their 60s and they aren't old, so how could it be?

And I do feel older than I used to. At least physically I don't feel like I'm in my 20s. I'm clearly older than I used to be. Recovery from injury takes a while. I've got some chronic age related things that I'm dealing with. I've got some aches and pains that are just that, aches and pains. But nothing that's hobbling me. Nothing that's making me think, Oh I'm aged and infirm! And emotionally I've got a lifetime of experiences behind me now informing what I think and what I do. So I know that I've matured. But...57?

For years when I've told people my age they've said things like "you can't be!" and for once I'm starting to agree.

Fifty seven? Impossible.