I’m Old!
AGING

I’m Old!

This photo was taken when I was only 64.

I just turned 66. I’m old! A senior! Venerable! Entitled to respect! (And discounts!)

I’m happy to be Old. My mother died, too young, at age of 57. It breaks my heart to think of everything she missed by not reaching old age.

And yet when I proudly call myself Old, I’m met with resistance from my fellow seniors, including one colleague at the library where I used to work who, although she was older than I am, always insisted “I’m middle-aged!”

Am I middle-aged? Don’t be ridiculous. It’s unlikely that I’ll live to be 132.

I recently asked my Facebook friends: “Do you think of yourself as old?”

Their responses?

I’m 64, but I don’t consider myself old. My mother is 90. SHE’S old.

I’m 71, but I don’t feel as old as I did when I was 60. Go figure.

I don’t think about my age at all. Just happy to be here. Although sometimes I’m shocked when I look in the mirror.

I am 63 and I’m with you. We’re Old. Not “late middle-aged” or “the wrong side of forty” or any of the other idiotic terms we seniors use to avoid facing the truth.

Some of my Facebook pals equate “old” with “retired”:

You’re not old if you’re still working.

You’re not old if you’re still active.

I’m 68, work full time as a college professor, just cut a new CD, write, love to landscape my yard, go to the gym nearly every day and am hiking in Arizona for the winter. A friend asked not long ago if I think I’m going to live forever.

Some seniors just don’t like the O word and prefer a different term:

I’m a 62-year-old retired physician. I resist being labeled Old — maybe because I don’t want to be considered an “irrelevant old codger.”

I am 71 and have left middle-age. Senior? Bleh! Old? Not yet. For the moment, I’m “free-floating.”

I don’t think of it as old. I think of it as “having some mileage.”

I’m Jewish. I prefer the term “Altacocker.”

Elaine Stritch said you are never old. You’re just Older. That works for me.

At 70, I’m no longer middle-aged. But I don’t yet identify as Old. There ought to be a term for that. “Codger-in-training?”

Some believe that you’re only as old as you feel — or look:

I am 60. I work 12-hour shifts. On my days off, I climb mountains and then ski down them. Do I feel old? No!

I’m 60 but I don’t consider myself old. Even when my body feels old, in my heart, I’m still 35.

Old is always at least ten years older than you are. My body is the age it is, but me? I am not old.

I’m 65 and lead an active life. But I have to admit that I hate the way my arms look in short sleeves and the pain in my arthritic knees and hands.

I’m a young 68 and don’t think of myself as a senior. But my legs? They definitely feel (and behave) like an elderly person’s legs.

When I turned 60 I ditched my 49-year-old boyfriend, who was always coming up with new health-related excuses for not being intimate. I’m happy to have left the 50s (and him!) behind. Not feeling old at all.

Some feel that being Old depends on the company you keep:

I’m 64. I try to surround myself with people who are open to adventure and learning. To me, Old signifies somebody who has given up thinking of new things she can do and challenges she can meet.

I am 64. Yeah, I am OLD!!! But I practice Yoga with young people three times a week. Start practicing yoga. Start NOW!

My favorite response?

I’m 60 and call myself old when there’s a discount to be had. Otherwise, I’m a babe.

How about you? Are you old?

( Writing Coach and Medium Sherpa Roz Warren writes for everyone from the Funny Times to the New York Times, has been in 13 Chicken Soup for the Soul collections, and is the author of Our Bodies, Our Shelves: Library Humor. Drop her a line at roSwarren@gmail.com.)
['Roz Warren']
['Old Age', 'Maturity', 'Aging Well', 'Roz Warren', 'Aging']