Reality

A thought occurred to me the other day.

Keeping alive the "old arts" of self-sustainability, sewing, knitting, crocheting, and canning are talents I am grateful to have been given, but . . . Here I've been thinking about doing what the older generations did, when a simple reality hit me.  I am now a member of an "older generation!"  That just slipped right up on me.  I remember delighting in being a young mother and young grandma, and young great grandma, but that's still 3 descending generations.  No way around it.  I'm not a young woman keeping the old arts alive, I'm now an older woman, thinking the younger ones need to be learning what I'm doing.

I have to chuckle at my denial.  The reality first hit in 2012.  A long hard year, a couple of serious injuries, and by late August, there was an old woman looking back at me in the mirror.  I've since been somewhat renewed and refreshed, but the reality remains.  After recovering from the spiritual attack that ensued after writing, "Can We All Be Wrong?" and the difficult lesson from Matthew 10; I was then blessed with a great granddaughter.  Although feeling much better about life, the reality remains, young women are simply not great grandmas!

In the past few weeks, I received an email from a gentleman making enquiry of ministry and homesteading.  Phone numbers were exchanged and we had a conversation regarding self-sustainability and living by faith.  In that conversation, he made a comment that he'd expect a much older less attractive person to be doing what I'm doing and included a compliment regarding my social media profile pic.  Before I even considered thanking him for the compliment, I asked him point blank, if he was sure he had contacted the right person.  Life has simply moved past feeling young and pretty.  In moving past that, however; I am blessed to hear comments that folks appreciate my wisdom, knowledge, and compassion.  Thankfully, by the grace of G-d, those traits can actually increase with age and spiritual maturity.  I pray they do.

The icing on the cake happened last night, however; in a conversation with Daddy, inquiring about a place I'd been about 15 years ago.  I remembered two generations working there then.  One was obviously nearing retirement age at that time or even perhaps past, and the daughter appeared to be a late boomer with teen agers if I remember correctly.  As he and I spoke, he said they were still at the same location, but their daughter was now running the place.  I had no idea if that referenced the generation that had gone to school about the time I did, or the next one.  Knowing my kids are 40ish, I thought maybe a granddaughter of the founders might now be at the helm.  I asked if the one whom I'd seen all those years ago that was about my age was now running the business, to which he mentioned her name and said, "I don't think she's as old as you are."

My grey hair and great grandchild certainly date me.  My abilities, interests, and entertainment ignorance also are huge age indicators, but now, my own father has called me old.