My mom turned 50 earlier this week. I didn't really give it a lot of thought--I sent her a birthday card, of course, and I knew it was her birthday, and while I knew, somewhere in my mind, that it was her 50th, it didn't really hit me until last night. I'm not sure why it happened then, either, why it didn't happen earlier, or why it happened at all.
I've never been a good judge of age. It's never really been part of how I identify myself, but not only that...well. I've mentioned before, people were mistaking me for being in my late twenties/early thirties when I was 18 years old, so I'm sure that didn't really help any. For me, it's easier to just assume everyone is my age, but the funny part is, a lot of times, I have to remind myself that I'm 31 and not 21.
It was even stranger to think about my mom, though. It doesn't help that I think she acts younger than she really is, but in my mind's eye, she's just my mom. Ageless isn't the right word for it, but the vision I have of her is a younger picture than the one she presents now. It's...I'm sure most people think of their parents as ageless--or maybe not even ageless, but that they'll live forever, that they'll always be there, that it's always Mom, just Mom.
Add to that the fact that I remember when my grandparents turned fifty, or thereabouts, at least (no, my parents weren't young when they had me, why do you ask?), it's just strange.
It reminds me, sometimes, that time really does pass, even though it doesn't always seem to.
Posted by Liz at December 11, 2004 02:11 PM