Do I qualify as an 'older person'?

I recently celebrated another birthday. No, wait, I didn’t actually celebrate; I simply accepted it since I couldn’t think of a better option.

It wasn’t a major milestone marker, just an ordinary non-descript kind of birthday. I tried not to pay much attention to it. Other than my age clicker advancing to a slightly higher number and havinga fun dinner with my family, the date came and went without much fanfare. I received a few nice gifts and my Facebook friends sent birthday greetings, and then it was over.

I didn’t feel any older. I secretly imagined that I had somehow squeaked by unscathed and the healthy habits I have been halfheartedly working at were holding at bay the aging process. Fatchance! That was only in my dreams, of course.

The wake-up call came a few evenings later, which I naturally missed because, like other old people, I had gone to bed early. So, without any idea of what awaited me, I returned the call the next day and learned that my 12-year-old grandson Glendon wanted my assistance. Could I help him with some questions for an assignment he was working on?

I said I could, of course, and would be glad to help. I imagined myself acing questions like those presented on the TV show, “Are you smarter than a fifth grader?” Then, the bomb was dropped. Heneeded to interview an “old person.”

Oh, my! I remembered this type of project. I think it was assigned to all three of my children at one time or another during their school years. Essentially, Glendon’s assignment was to present a set of questions to a grandparent to learn some family history and get a perspective on what things were like “way back then.” He thought I would be just the kind of informant he was looking for.

Really? Have I turned into “that” person? To a 12-yearold boy, the answer was “yes.”

Just for the record, Glendon has several grandparents and I happen to be theyoungest. This is a detail I add for no one’s benefit but my own because once the project got rolling, it was a point that didn’t matter at all.

When I heard the answers to his questions coming out of my mouth, I was reminded of how drastically different things were between my childhood and his. I might as well have been describing the stone ages. I sounded ancient, even to myself. I could only imagine what my descriptions sounded like to a kid currently living in today’s world of modern conveniences and electronic gadgets.

It isn’t that I am so old, I wanted to tell him, it is justthat things have changed so much in the years since I was his age. I didn’t say it, because it wouldn’t have made any difference.

The youthful outlook I had a few days prior was challenged a bit, but I just had to suck it up. The more important thing was that I had a chance to help a grandson complete his homework.

Now, at least for a time, I can get back to my dream world.

Annette Rowe is a freelance writer from rural Gentry and aspeech-language pathologistat Siloam Springs High School. She may be reached by email at [email protected].