The Middle Age, at Last, and How I Knew
Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree of Contrast.
When I took a look at Aislinnâ€™s 14th birthday pictures, taken at my momâ€™s kitchen table, I understood at last that I am now in the Middle Â Age. Â Itâ€™s not a year or span of years or any way society or a medical record might define it. Itâ€™s my own definition.
A couple of Aislinnâ€™s less flattering pictures had her bending over her cake, mouth full of braces, hair in her face, mouth wide open. The deja vu was overwhelming. Far too similar to a picture taken of me on my own 14th birthday, bending Â over Â my Â cake, Â mouth Â full Â of braces, hair Â in my face, mouth wide open. Joking around, too, like she is 30 years later. But I hated that photo and the way I looked Â in it, especially with Â theÂ open Â mouth Â of braces.
Then I looked at that picture of Aislinn and saw myself at the same age.
On the same day, I looked at a picture of me on the beach, laughing, and I saw not myself but my mom in her
30â€™s. Iâ€™d swear it was her looking back instead of me.
So my younger daughter now looks almost exactly as I did Â at Â the Â same Â age, Â though Â I Â was Â shorter Â and Â flatchested. And I look now as my mom did around my age.
At last I understand that I am now firmly in my Middle Age.