I don't know what prompted me to start a blog, except that a lot of my status comments on Facebook are way too long and wordy, and besides, it seems so many people have blogs these days. So why not me? I can ramble on and get it off my chest and absolutely nobody has to read it if they don't want to.
It has stirred up some comment: "Gosh, you're starting a blog at 90? That's admirable (unbelievable, inspiring, awesome )." Etc. My question: "What has being 90 got to do with it?" Yes, I am a lady of a certain age, but I have to tell you that I do not feel any different than I ever have. I am still Jeannie, the person I was at 30, 50, and 70. Now someone is going to pop up and say, "But nobody is the same person at 30 as they are at 70!" True. But not entirely true. Our outlooks (and for darn sure our looks) change over the years, but the core does not change. I have watched my children grow from infancy to adulthood, each a grownup version of that baby that snuggled in my arms. The clear-eyed one, the open-hearted one, the laid-back one. Just as they were as babies. Just as they are now. We do not change our essential natures with age. So forget the 90. It is just baggage getting in the way.
But, of course, one is 90 and reminded of it in different ways daily. There can be a subtle kind of patronizing of old folks. For example....Grocery clerk: " Well, hello, there, young lady! I see you are buying a bottle of wine. May I see your ID, please ?" (Chuckle, chuckle). And so on. I know it is not meant in a mean way, but it does not amuse me.
However, on the bright side I had a couple of strokes to my ego this past year. The first was in April when I stopped by my audiologist's office to pick up my free birthday hearing aid batteries. "And how old are you?" asked the sweet little person at the desk. "Oh..., but you look so...so...good!" she managed after awhile. ( For a walking corpse, she meant.) But I took it in a good way. Later in the summer while having a small procedure done in a doctor's office, both the PA and the nurse commented that I seemed a much younger woman. Of course, I was seated in the examining room at the time and they had not seen me hirpling down the hall to get there. But, thanks, guys, and I went home and stuck out my tongue at that old lady who hangs around in my mirrors. That same week, the receptionist at another office told me, "Mrs. Hagberg, I think we have your birth date wrong. Oh... really?" Take that, grocery clerk!
Ah, vanity! It feeds on so little. But at least we know that it does not fade with age.
So I guess I am writing a blog because it gives me the opportunity to prattle on like this without boring anyone because nobody has to read it! Better than talking to myself, I figure.