Aging can be a delightful mix of excitement and dread. The thought of comfy “granny panties” is both appealing and a bit alarming as I contemplate the reality of growing old. It’s a reflection of my mixed feelings about aging—it’s a journey that’s both thrilling and intimidating.
You might think there’s nothing exhilarating about getting older, but have you spent time with seniors lately? They’ve shed the pressures of PTA meetings and can saunter at whatever pace they please without judgment. The burden of yard work, daily gym visits, or swimsuit figures no longer looms over them. Aging comes with some surprisingly great benefits.
My approach to getting older is tied to my mindset, and I’m committed to becoming an extraordinary old lady. I plan on donning oversized hats, speaking my mind, and discussing anything—even personal topics—without hesitation. The idea of aging feels liberating, and I’m determined to embrace it.
However, I also reject the stereotype of the nagging old lady. I won’t be the one to admonish young parents about things like “put a coat on that child!” or “cherish every moment because it goes by so quickly” (yes, I’ve heard both). Instead, I want to be the kind of elder who shares amusing stories like, “Once in Target, my little one knocked over an entire display of movies and then collided with an unsuspecting man.” Or, “My kids once asked loudly in a public restroom why I had so much hair down there, causing a few snickers.”
I won’t tell new moms to savor every second; instead, I’ll suggest they sneak a treat from the checkout line and hide in the closet to enjoy it because parenting is no walk in the park. I’ll reassure them that they’re doing better than they realize.
I aim to be the kind of old lady who buys groceries for a frazzled young mom whose child is throwing a tantrum or who lends a helping hand when a kid is acting out. I’ll share a knowing smile and say, “Kids can be little terrors, can’t they?” when I see a mom on the edge of tears, or I’ll play peekaboo with the snotty baby in the cart. I won’t mind letting her go ahead of me in line because I’m not in a rush.
I’ll treat a young mother to dinner just because, without offering unsolicited advice on how to keep her rambunctious kids in their seats. I’ll slip a note to the server to commend her on her kids’ behavior, even if it was less than stellar.
I want to be the elderly neighbor who always has candy for the kids and doesn’t mind if they play in my yard. I’ll wear whatever I like and say what’s on my mind, but I won’t point out a mom’s unwashed hair or the spit-up on her shirt. Instead, I’ll compliment her style, even if we both know she’s had a rough day.
If I know her well enough, I’ll offer to babysit while she runs errands or bring her soup if her kids are under the weather. I won’t judge if her kids are barefoot in winter or look like they haven’t been cleaned up in ages. When I see a young mother flustered or scolding her child for running into traffic, I’ll smile and reassure her that she’s doing an amazing job.
And I won’t utter the phrase “it goes so fast.” I understand that such comments can add to the guilt young parents already feel, even when they’re doing a commendable job. I’m pledging to remember how hard it was, how isolating it can be, and how desperately I wanted support from those who’ve been through it.
I might even give her a hug and say everything will be alright because it truly will.
In summary, as I look forward to my golden years, I pledge to be the supportive elder who uplifts young parents rather than criticizing them. I want to create a community of understanding, laughter, and compassion.