If Age Were Just A Number You Wouldn't Have To Laminate That Card

     Today I got my Medicare card in the mail.  I guess this was supposed to be the Government's idea of an early birthday present.   I would rather have had a bracelet or gift certificate to my favorite yarn store, Woolbearers.

     I mean they must have made a mistake I cannot almost be the age one has to be to carry one of those cards.

     They say that "age is just a number".  No, no it isn't.  If that were the case, I would not doze off in the afternoon with knitting needles suspended in the middle of a row.  Ten years ago I would be out walking on a beautiful sunny afternoon,  not napping.  Then I was at the lower end of the age limit to live in an adult community.

     If age were just a number, I wouldn't have to worry that the evidence of having another piece of delicious crumb cake from the Big Apple Bakery would show up on the scale the very next day.   Twenty years ago, I could eat the crumb cake with a dish of ice cream and not gain an ounce. I was considered middle age.

     If age were just a number, I would not worry about what is around around the corner.  Thirty years ago my worries were as young as my children and I looked forward to what was around the corner.  Still young enough to consider having more children.

     If age were just a  number, I wouldn't be wondering if I would be around to dance at my grand daughter's wedding.  Forty years ago, I marveled at how precious my little baby girl was and couldn't imagine her being anything but my little baby girl. I was the younger generation.

     If age were just a number I wouldn't be missing my parents as much as I do.  Fifty years ago I wrote a letter to Ann Landers, complaining about how strict my parents were. (I wrote about this here.)  I was a teenager.

     If age were just a number I wouldn't have to DVR all programs that start at 10:00 because I can't stay awake much past that.  Sixty years ago I am sure I begged to stay up just a little later, please.  I was a kid.

     If age were just a number, I would not have years of experience and memories.  Almost 65 years ago, I had no memories.  Everything was new. I was innocent.  I didn't know about sadness and mourning.  I was an infant.

     If age were just a number, I wouldn't wonder what group I fit into now.  I googled and no one has ever lived doubled the age I am now, so I couldn't be considered middle aged.  I googled and I do qualify as a baby boomer, which means that I also qualify as a senior citizen.  I googled and synonyms for senior citizen are: elderly person, geriatric, golden-ager, old fogey, old person, OAP,(old-age pensioner), old-timer, oldster, pensioner, retired person, retiree, senior.

     No, age is not just a number. I can feel it in my bones. 

BTW, when I told Ross that I had received my Medicare card, he told me I should get it laminated "because it's going to get used a lot."  Thanks, Ross, I knew there had to be something left to look forward to.

Here is today's entry from Anna's diary:

Thurs February 14 1929

Drove Elsie and Minnie down town.  Went to Mountainside Hospital to see Louise's girl Lena.  Abscess in gland.  Invited to the Iapola's for supper in Bloomfield.  Drove Jean's mother home.  Rosalie & Baby with me.

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