I guess I would be in the second quarter of my years. Happiness would be winning over anything else I’ve experienced in life and I would have a penalty for that one time I jumped out of a moving car. Right now though, I’m calling a time out to review some years gone by.
The last time I spent a Friday night at a high school football stadium, I was in high school. That’s why I was excited to go catch our local teams compete last night.
I loved the atmosphere, the game, the bands, the people watching and the smell of all of that football stadium food. I really had a blast and the kids loved it too. It brought back so many memories and feelings, but also added a new feeling – my youth is gone. I got that feeling when I saw all those teeny-boppers in their cutesy little outfits – their only care being who they’re going to hook up with that night or did they see/talk to so and so.
They are just so young.
What really put it in perspective for me is when I saw a woman, probably in her mid-30’s, surrounded by a bunch of teen girls. The woman was attractive and, I thought, stylish but she seemed to be intimidated and was definitely uncomfortable suddenly face to face with all that youth. I wondered what she was thinking. She tried to keep a look of confidence on her face but I could see the thoughts going through her mind. “Girls, you don’t have anything on me. Been there, done that – way before you.” It made me realize how precious our time is. Before they know it, those girls will soon become us. After all, many of us were once them.
It’s not that I’m jealous of them or want to go back to that time, it just made me nostalgic and well, basically, feel old. I know I’m still “young” by many standards but I’m certainly not young enough to:
- Paint all of the skin visible outside my skimpy shorts and tank top, (That’s another “I’m old” indicator – when I was their age, I would never have considered them “skimpy” shorts.)
- Act crazy even when I’m just standing in a group of people. (Well, I guess I still do this.)
- Walk around with my chest out, trying to portray all the confidence in the world. (My posture is getting worse and worse, Osteoporosis? I drink my milk!)
- Chill in the Student Section of the stadium. (Man, were we like that?)
- Not care where I sit, stand, stop, walk. Being oblivious seems a lot less stressful.
The other feeling I had that made me aware of my age – the fact that I was worried that the players would get hurt. I’m such a mom! This one play had five guys tackle one guy and I said, “Oh my! Did they really need to be that rough?” Andrew’s response? “It’s tackle football!” Man, I hate to see what I’m going to be like if Nate plays! I’ll be an even older mom then!
Say what?