The physical age of the women in my family in no way, shape, or form matches their mental ages. This mindset makes for some hilarious situations.
My great aunt, Sassy*, is a new resident of a nursing home. She is 92 years old, but since she is a leap year baby, for years she would base her age on the number of actual birthdays she’s had. By that account, she’s actually only 23.
On one of the first days in her new room at the nursing home, her roommate, who is suffering from dementia, rolled over to her in her wheelchair, and hauled off and hit her for no apparent reason. Aunt Sassy balled up her fist and punched the woman. Thus ended the fight. When asked about the woman, Aunt Sassy responded like this:
She went on to say, “She is old. She’s in her nineties.”
Years ago, my Grandma, who is two years younger than Aunt Sassy, asked me to take her to the grocery store. When I got to her house to pick her up, she told me that Aunt Sassy and another Aunt wanted to go too. I picked up all three women and off to Food Lion we went. At this point in time, everyone was somewhere in their mid-eighties. All three women have physical issues that come with aging, but Grandma was able to get around much better than her two sisters. Grandma had gotten all of her items and was ready to check out, but Aunt Sassy and her other sister were still trying to get what they were after. Grandma and I walked a bit ahead and she said to me, “They move so slow. They old.”
My Mom is in her late sixties. She still insists on wearing high heels, moving and lifting heavy objects, and driving hundreds of miles in one day. I haven’t heard her call anyone old, other than people who are actually much older than her, but I can tell that she thinks of herself as “different” from other people her age.
Apparently, the women in my maternal family have a serious issue with age. They can see it in other people, but not in themselves. It is hilarious to me and I hope that I inherit this mindset.
*Sassy isn’t her real name, but it certainly suits her.