Friday, June 23, 2000
The COA Luncheon
Today, Thursday, June 8, 2000 I attended the COA Annual Luncheon, technically called not Luncheon but Friends-of-the-COA meeting. I have to confess that I was doubly qualified for this event, being old enough, and also being an invited Town Employee. This time I attended as a town employee; however, this time, I actually looked around the room at my fellow attendees.
Good grief! What happened to everyone? I have known most of these people for nearly 30 years. At Cub Scouts, as band mothers, in 4-H, where did all this gray hair come from? All those people I knew were young. We had little kids; we played field hockey together; we discussed our in-laws, our future plans, our school hopes for our children, whether we should have more children. More children, are you kidding? Now we are talking about current or hoped-for grandchildren.
When I was 20 years old, 40 seemed like over the hill and even ancient. When I became 40, 60 was only kind-of old, but do-able. Now, as I look around, I see the same faces; I hear the same voices; these are the same old friends, but COA material? Once when I was in my teens, someone much older and wiser than I said that no matter how old you are, the person inside your head, and behind your eyes, looking out, will always be 20. You know, even though I didn't believe them at the time, they were right. The body may change, but the person inside is still the same.
It was nice to go to an affair where I knew all the words to the songs that the entertainer was singing, and we could even hear each other over the singing. These days I eat a lot more salads, having recently lost some 15 pounds, but now they taste good. Early in life, I learned that the best cooks were those little old ladies with gray hair. It's true, only now they are my contemporaries. The men, all ten of them, actually sit with the women and they are welcome too.
We had entertainment: poems, music and dancing. Dancing, I have to talk about the dancing. I overheard one of the men saying, "Bring on the dancing girls." Pretty funny, but strangest of all was that the dancing instructor was the same one we had for our seventh and eighth grade kids. Isn't that wonderful? Maybe we are not so old after all.
My friend, Mrs. Anna Johnson, is in her nineties, and she thinks of me as just a kid. So do I. I guess you are only as old as you let yourself feel. I only hope that I can continue to keep up with all of these people in the COA.
© 2000 The Carlisle Mosquito