Little Old Me

There are so many reminders that I am getting old. Or should I say older. I wake up at 6:30 a.m. without even blinking an eye. Yes, I said A.M. My body is going places I never thought it would and it isn't any place I want it to go. I can't stand being in a crowded, loud bar. (My college self would not get along with this older and wiser self!) But the one, definite sign that I am getting older came in the mail the other day. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, there in the "History Flashback" section of my hometown newspaper was a picture of me at four years old, along with my pre-school classmates at Miss Kathy's. Really?? Since when did 1981 become history?? I can remember those days fondly. I hated that dress my mom made me wear. I remember cutting my bangs because they got in my eyes and I figured, "How hard can it be?" I remember loathing swim lessons because the sweet Miss Kathy that was my teacher in the school house turned so mean when we got in the pool. (She was never mean. I was just being a little wimp when it came to letting go of the side of the pool. Frankly I would have just pushed me in.) And the months and years have just passed on. Through high school, college, marriage, our first child and all the other memories in between. And now here I am... sitting in the "History Flashback" section of the Havana Herald. I would say I have finally arrived, but there are so many others places I have left to go. Don't file me in the history section just yet!