Scrolling through Facebook on a hot day, I came across one of those things "Find Your Stripper/Witch/Drag Queen Name" and foolishly read on.
Your first name is the name of the oldest person you know . . . and that stopped me cold as I realized I know only a handful of people older than I (82). And that's only by a few months or a couple of years.
Of course I know of some folks in their nineties and beyond, but suddenly it was borne in on me that among the folks around that I count as friends, I am definitely the older generation.
It's weird. In my grade at school I was always the youngest (and usually the tallest -- now I've lost a few inches.)
Ch-ch-ch-change. The wheel turns and I shouldn't be surprised.
3 comments:
I was once a youngish blogger. Now I am an older one and also older than most local friends. And I’ve shrunk too.
I'm glad my ex-hubby is about to turn 86, as well as one of my best friends. Otherwise I feel like the matriarch. Then there are all these folks I hang out with in their 60s. I keep trying to find some 70 year olds to befriend!
My husband is a bit older than I am, and it scares me because I'm terrified he will die first and I'll be left totally alone and disabled. So far he's in excellent health
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