am i getting old?

I look at my face in the mirror
and see a woman that I barely recognize.
She is wrinkled,
her hair is dyed to hide the grey,
but she knows that every red highlight hides a grey hair.
Furthermore,
she has those lines going down her throat--
those lines that you only get when you are getting old.

Am I getting old?

I listen to my friends reminisce happily about past things--
Gilligan's Island, rotary phones, stick shifts,
and I remembers every one.
What I don't remember,
more often than I'd like to admit,
is the name of the person that I'm talking about
or to.
I thought that only happened when you got old.

Am I getting old?

My children are grown,
most of them are gone,
and there are grandchildren galore.
My youngest,
the child I had in my 30's,
is now twenty.
I look around at the mothers of my students,
and their parents are old enough,
some of them,
to be my children.

What happened?
I don't remember getting old!

But old, they say, is a state of mind.
Old, they say, is what you are,
Not who you are.
Maybe so,
although I feel that the people that say that
are even older than I am.

I might be getting old,
but, as they say, the alternative is worse.
So okay, I'm getting old.

I'm really okay with that.
Really.
Well, sort of.
On a good day.
But whether or not I'm okay with it,
It's happening.

So I will enjoy life while I can,
plan adventures,
visit new places,
revisit old ones,
and enjoy life while I can--
while there's still time.

I might be getting old,
But I'm not dead yet!

Every day holds new promise,
and so I will hold on to that promise
and I will continue to walk,
until the day comes
when I can fly.