My Dad's Age

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Today is my dad's birthday. He's forty-nine years old. What a weird thought, that he's pushing fifty. But I guess I am twenty now, so I shouldn't be too surprised.

Age is such a funny thing. I've been pondering it a lot recently, what with life hitting me in the face much faster than I thought it would. I don't feel my age, but much younger, like I really should be finishing up my sophomore year of high school, yet somehow I find myself in college. This insecurity is compounded by the fact that I'm generally mistaken for younger rather than older; maybe it's my lack of height that skews others' view. I'm strongly reminded of the flight attendant who kindly informed me that you have to be fifteen to sit in the exit row on the airplane and almost asked me to switch seats before I kindly informed her that I was nineteen and a half, flying back from Christmas break to finish my sophomore year of college. Her surprise bordered on insulting. That was an extreme case; mostly I'm mistaken for somewhere around eighteen. Though if I play it right I can occasionally trick people into thinking that I'm as old as twenty-two. It's a stretch, but I can pull it off.

The whole thing has been faintly bothering me. I already feel too young - I don't want to look too young on top of that. And the worst part is there's virtually nothing I can do about it; anti-aging creams abound these days, but aging creams, well, you must be crazy if you want that. It occurred to me today, however, that maybe I shouldn't worry. My dad is practically fifty, but you wouldn't know that just by looking at him. And that's not a problem. Yes, people might mistake me for a mid-pubescent teenager right now, but someday that will change, and they'll be mistaking me for forty when I'm really fifty-one. Which will be much appreciated when the day comes. Meaning there's no reason to stress about it now. And while I don't think I can honestly say I'll enjoy people asking when I graduate from high school, at least I can learn to not let it bother me, and look forward to the day when it becomes a compliment. So thanks to my dad's birthday for reminding me to look at the positive side.