I am a great aunt. At 48. It's perhaps somewhat better than being a grandmother at 48. But it's still a quite strange concept to me. Grand- or great- anythings are old people, aren't they? I'm not old.
And yet, I have silver hair. So clearly I am old. Or older at least. And I've never shied away from saying my age. Never pretended that I was still 30, even before I stopped coloring my hair. So what's with the denial that I'm older?
My mother had knee replacement surgery a couple of weeks ago. This is the second time she's had a knee done, so she knew what to expect. Except that it's been 13 years since the last one, and there's a significant difference between being 67 and being 80. Her recovery is going fine for an 80-year-old, but she remembers her recovery as a 67-year-old and is frustrated that the recovery isn't going as quickly or easily. Even at almost 80, she refuses to be defeated by being older.
I understand her frustration and her denial. I spent most of the winter doing yoga for my primary form of exercise. There were a bunch of reasons for this, not the least of which was that it was too cold to run outside. But now that the weather is turning nicer, I want to go running again. I also signed up to run in the Race for the Cure in June. I could switch to being a walker, but I want to run not walk. But my knees - which I inherited from my mother - aren't so sure. These days, when I run, the first mile is problematic. Then the "juices" get flowing and running is less painful. My sister, who has the same bad knees, has given up running pretty much altogether. She's had orthoscopic surgery on both knees, so her bad knees are a level above mine though not quite as bad as my mother's. But given our genetic history, I wonder if running on what are getting to be older knees is better or worse for them. Am I strengthening the knees, tendons, and muscles by running, which will stave off surgeries? Or am I pushing my knees more than I should at this age? It's probably a question I should ask my doctor, except that I don't want to hear the answer. Denial at its finest.
On the scale of genetic issues that can kick in as one gets older, I'll take bad knees and premature gray hair. But they are reminders that I'm not as young as I used to be. As much as I may want to deny it, it's true. I am getting older. Maybe what I'm really refusing is letting it change my life.
After all, my 84-year-old father is flying across the country next week to participate in meetings for an organization he founded almost 10 years ago. When he was a spring chicken at 70+. Those genes I'll take - in spades. My parents have always kept active, in their own way refusing to age. And I firmly believe that's why they are in their 80s and among the healthiest 80-year-olds you'll ever meet.
The bottom line is that I think I'll continue to push myself, to accept new challenges, to admit my age but not let it dictate what I can and cannot do.
And maybe that's not a bad thing.
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