New Odd Place

I had an experience that made me feel quite old today, but it also made me laugh right out loud.

I had just returned to town from taking a dear friend to meet up with the next friend she was going to be spending time with while visiting in our fair state. We had a wonderful week, and our grandchildren had gotten to play with one another. I was happy for our time together, but so sad to see it come to an end. This mess of feelings could only be assuaged by one thing: retail therapy. So I headed to my favorite shop in town: Goodwill.

I meandered through the racks, finally picking up a few items which actually fit when I tried them on and two were even half priced. Definitely therapeutic. It was all good until I was just about to walk out the door with my new treasures.

The cashier at the check out was a nice looking young man. He was quite pleasant and made sure to ask me if I had found everything I needed. When he asked he addressed me as “ma’am”. I didn’t think much of it until I was putting my change away in my wallet and he had moved on to the next customer and he called her “hon.” I quickly looked up to see a very attractive twenty-something girl standing behind me. So that’s how it goes?

In a few short days I will be experiencing, and hopefully celebrating my fifty-fourth birthday. I’m quite happy to be almost fifty-four. My dad died at the age of fifty-three and in my head I knew that was young, but until I reached fifty, I had no real clue how young that really was and is. All I wanted for my birthday last year was to reach fifty-four. And now I’m here.

Walking from the Goodwill today I chuckled all the way to the car. How can fifty-four seem so young on one hand, yet when addressed by a twenty something cashier feel so absurdly ancient? About the only time I feel old is when I try to keep up with my five year old grandson. But new signs creep up on me every day. Looking in the mirror I find new gray hairs framing my face and no lotion seems to erase the age from my hands. What is this strange zone I am in where I am too old to be called “hon” but too young to order from the senior menu at Bob Evan’s? And how does one become comfortable in this place?

I’m not sure if the solution is a cup of tea or a ride on the bike, or both…or if there even is one.