I’m 32 today! I’ve already heard the phrase “age is just a number” twice this morning. I have to disagree.
It’s not just a number. It’s a milestone. A few hundred years ago, I’d practically be considered old by this point. I’ve survived thirty-two years on this earth. Through bumps and bruises, schools and jobs, good and bad decisions, laughter and tears, houses and apartments, joys and sorrows, surgeries and recoveries, traveling, moving, succeeding and having to try a little harder. That’s a lot of miles, and a lot of memories. No, age isn’t just a number to me.
I’ve managed to achieve three of my life-long goals: becoming (and continuing to be) a wife, becoming a mother (x2, because I’m an over-achiever), and becoming a published novelist. Well, I have about 6 months before that one’s completely checked off, but I know it’s happening! The only other item on my life-long list has to do with traveling to certain locations. Out of a list of four things, three are checked off. That’s a 75% success rate, and I’m only 32. Not bad, in my opinion.
Sometimes, and for some people, age really is just a number. I remember a conversation I once had with my grandmother. I couldn’t remember exactly which year she was born, so the conversation went something like this:
Me- Grandma? Are you 72 or 73?
Grandma- Well, technically I’m 72.
M- What do you mean “technically”?
G- My birthday is in December.
M- I know.
G- That means that I get cheated out of most of the year.
M- (confused silence)
G- I tell people that I’m in my seventy-third year, so I get credit for the whole year.
M- Oh, okay. I see where you’re going now.
G- But I don’t like 73. It’s not a pretty number. 74 isn’t pretty, either, so I think I’m just going to be 75 for awhile.
M- You’re just going to be 75 for awhile?
G- Yes, I think so. I like that number.
Well, okay then! It made me laugh at the time. (Grandma passed away when she was 77. I really hope that she was happy with ending on a “pretty number.”) In that situation, age really was just a number. She wanted to pick a “pretty” one. That’s fine. Lots of people choose to be 29 for a long, long time. I couldn’t see anything wrong with her deciding to be 75 for a few years!
I don’t know that I’ve ever thought of numbers as being pretty or ugly, but I do have numbers that I tend to gravitate towards. For example: “3” has always been a good number for me. I like it. Using Grandma’s thought process, I’m now in my 33rd year. Next year, I’ll actually be 33. Double “3”s for two years straight. So, if we’re going to say “age is just a number,” I’m going to have a great next two years!
And I’m very okay with that. 🙂