AY Magazine / February 2012 / My Opinion: As Years Go By

My Opinion: As Years Go By

Back when I was in elementary school — oh, say, old enough to converse with Mama, but not old enough that every word from her lips induced rapid eye-rolling in my head — I can remember thinking the days just D R A G G E D by and voicing that to her as I sat toying with the remains of the vegetables I always resisted eating (until eventually Daddy would sneak back into the kitchen and eat them for me) and Mama stood at the kitchen sink, washing dishes, while monitoring the progress on my veggie consumption. I remember so clearly her twisting off the faucet and sighing heavily as she turned around to tell me that her own life seemed to be whipping by in decades rather than mere 24-hour increments and how odd it was that she didn’t feel any older on that day than she had when she was 18.

At those words, I swiveled in my seat to look at this woman … my mother who, it seemed to me, had always been so, so old. After all, on that day she was already at least 36 — one had to wonder how much quality of life there could actually still be for such a crone! Snort!

The very idea that she, careening toward 40 at, by her own account, break-neck speed, still felt the same on the inside as she had when she was a teenager, well, I was agog, and I remained in that state for many years. I pondered on that concept many, many times as my own life gradually began to inexplicably speed up.  

Eventually, I noted with no small degree of horror, that as the years sped by, I also did/do not feel any older than I did as a teenager. The past seems to have condensed itself somehow. By that, I mean that I don’t seem to have a true sense of when things occurred in the past. It feels like everything in my life is one of three time zones:  When I Was Little; Five Years Ago; or Last Week.  

When a dear friend passed away recently and I was asked to speak at his funeral, I started trying to remember when we’d met. I knew we didn’t grow up together — and I’d known him longer than a few days — so he fell into the “five years ago” category, until I really started going back through memories and photos and deduced that it was closer to 40 years of friendship. How is it possible that I myownself have 40-year friendships — and that those are not even my longest-running ones? Good grief, I have done messed around and got old when I wasn’t paying attention!

My friend George said his 95-year old Aunt Maylene recently had to give up her driving privileges and move to an assisted living facility. When asked how she was adjusting to this new way of life, she sighed and said, “Well, it’s all right, I guess. Of course, I KNEW this day would COME — I just didn’t expect it to be so SOON.”  

Amen, sistah.

 

 

Jill Conner Browne is a multiple #1 New York Times^® Best Seller.

Simon & Schuster published her latest book American Thighs: The Sweet Potato Queen’s Guide to Preserving Your Assets. She is featured regularly in national and international magazines and television shows. You can learn more about “Her Royal Highness” at sweetpotatoqueens.com.