This
year's back-to-school was a bigger event for me than usual, because
as a fourth-grader, I would be allowed to play on the “big kid's”
side of the playground. The school playground was divided by a stripe
of white paint, and first, second,
and third graders were strictly prohibited from crossing the line.
(Kindergartners had their own little playground, but of course we
didn't want to play there.)
My
parents were in the front, and my mother turned to my father and
said, with a touch of nostalgia, “Can you believe we have a child
old enough to be in 4th grade?”
When
I heard my mother say those words, I realized something I had never
before considered: “My parents don't know they're old!”
How
could this be? They were so obviously old-timers! How could this not
be in their sphere of awareness?
(Actually,
they were not that old. My mother was 29, and my father 33.
But they were big, and could drive, and paid bills, and had kids. In
my mind, they were practically fossils.)
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Nine
years later:
I
was a freshman in college, and I was driving home from school. It was
a particularly nice fall day, and I was so charmed by the weather
that when I passed a park, I succumbed to an urge to stop and swing
on the swingset. The park was deserted, so I hopped on the swing and
pumped until I was really swinging, enjoying the air on my face, the
feeling of flying above the ground.
I
don't know how long the little girl had been there before I saw her.
She was standing a few feet away, in front of me, with a displeased
look on her face. I slowed down and said hello.
She
made no attempt to hide her disdain. “A grown-up,” she sneered,
“playing on the swings?”
Oh.
Well, I could see the problem. It was just a little misunderstanding,
and I could clear it right up. “I'm not a grown-up,” I explained,
confident that she would quickly realize her error, and stop looking
aghast.
Not
so. She shook her head and said, “Yes, you are.”
“I'm
not!”
She
considered for a second, and then asked, “Can you drive a car?”
Oooh,
good one. I had to confess that I could indeed drive. But I had a
quick counter: “I'm not married.” I felt rather smug when I saw a
bit of her confidence slip. But not for long.
“Do
you have a job?” she asked.
“Yes.
Well, kind of. I go to school every day, just like you do.”
She
must have sensed my hesitation. “You are a grown-up.”
With
that, she turned her back to me and walked away, leaving me sitting
motionless on the swing, wondering.
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Seven
years later:
I
took my restless baby out to the church foyer. I saw a friend there,
and I sat down beside her on the floor, leaning against the wall. We
talked briefly, but soon she needed to get up and change her baby's
diaper. I told her I would keep an eye on her two-year-old daughter.
The
little girl moved over to her mother's bag, and pulled a banana out.
She toddled over to me, handed me the banana, and said, “Open it?”
I
didn't know if her mom wanted her to eat the banana, so I stalled for
time, pretending that I couldn't do the job. She looked at me with
some concern as my feeble attempts continued. Her mother came back
after a minute, and I caught her eye. She nodded, signaling that I
could peel the banana.
I
said, “I'll try again,” and with a show of determined effort, I
cracked the top of the banana peel. I handed it to my little friend,
and she gave me an encouraging nod. “Big girl,” she said,
praising my accomplishment, and gave me a pat on the head before she
walked away.
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A little girl was visiting her grandmother, and after they had enjoyed some time together, the child asked, “Grandma, how old are you?”
Grandma, rather coyly, said, “I don't remember.”
Her little granddaughter had a helpful suggestion. “If you don't remember how old you are, you can look at your underwear. Mine says four.”
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Does anyone really know what age means?
Of course, technically, it's the length of time that a person has lived; the space between birth and now. That seems manageable. (Especially if you are good at math.)
Maybe one reason this question has been in my mind recently is that in a few months, I will hit a notable age; one that is, I'll just say, an even number easily divisible into 100. (And I'm not turning 10).
But one thing that life – and raising seven children – has taught me is that people age differently. Still, this seems too simple. There must something else.
There is a old saying that reads “You are only as old as you think you are.” If that's true, I have no idea how old I am. Sometimes I feel really, really old (and look really old) but a lot of the time I feel like a goofy little kid, and I wonder why anyone thinks I might be in charge of something.
And then one of my children will say something so wise, or do something so mature, that I am stunned to think that I am the parent here. And I remember this truth: this child has a spirit as ageless and eternal as mine. We are mother and child, but we are also sister and brother. This is same relationship status applies to my mother, my grandmother, and my neighbor.
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"Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul." ― (Samuel Ullman)
“Age has no reality except in the physical world. The essence of a human being is resistant to the passage of time. Our inner lives are eternal, which is to say that our spirits remain as youthful and vigorous as when we were in full bloom. Think of love as a state of grace, not the means to anything, but the alpha and omega. An end in itself.” ― (Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera)
"Whatever our age, capacity, Church calling, or location, we are as one called to the work to help Him in His harvest of souls until He comes again." ― (President Henry B. Eyring)
And Elihu the son of Barachel the Buzite answered and said, I am young, and ye are very old; wherefore I was afraid, and durst not shew you mine opinion. I said, Days should speak, and multitude of years should teach wisdom. But there is a spirit in man: and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth them understanding. Great men are not always wise: neither do the aged understand judgment. ― (Job 32:6 - 9)
“Everything in our life happens as though we entered upon it with a load of obligations contracted in a previous existence … obligations whose sanction is not of this present life, [which] seem to belong to a different world, founded on kindness, scruples, sacrifice, a world entirely different from this one, a world whence we emerge to be born on this earth, before returning thither.” ― (As quoted by Elder Neil A. Maxwell)
"Oh, to be 70 again!"
Marjorie Pay Hinckley