Yesterday for the first time really, I could see myself as an 'old lady'. It was a brief reflection in the wing mirror of the car -- and it came as a shock. It brought to mind a long ago memory of early teen-age years with my best friend, Roberta. We lived in a part of Torrington, Connecticut, called Burrville and our houses were separated by a 'walk in the woods'. We were part of a team of 4 friends, but because we lived so close together spent more time with each other than with the other two. Her family had lived in Burrville for generations and she would take me from time to time to play Canasta with her 'Grandma'.
Grandma was quite a formidable lady, I believe and I thought of her as being well dressed, well coifed and always manicured. I remember quite clearly how well groomed her hands were -- one would playing cards after all. I also remember that I considered her to be rather an 'old lady', albeit a 'grande dame with plenty of style.' -- in the order of my own grandmother -- although my friend's grandmother was much more well-turned out than mine -- I now refer in particular to my paternal grandmother. My maternal grandmother was another story altogether.
So why was I thinking of this woman? I believe she was 65 when I met her and I am now that same age. Kind of puts things into an awful perspective. Last night I had terrible heartburn and wondered if I was having a heartburn or a heart attack. And worried about the fact I've not yet made a will and on and on the thoughts that haunt in the middle of the night. Bah! Humbug!