“He looks like a little old man,” she laughed to her friend. It was a group of four grandmothers, looking at the newest addition to the grandma club – a plump new grandson. “We need to buy him a tiny cowboy hat,” one exclaimed excitedly. They all laughed and nodded in agreement. That baby needs a cowboy hat for sure, because it’s a unspoken law that every child in Texas owns one.
These grandmas were decked out in their coordinating gym attire, looking pretty darn awesome for being around 65-years-old. They were obviously good friends, laughing and gossiping and making plans for a lazy afternoon lunch. One of these ladies had white hair styled in a cute shoulder-length cut and one was wearing her hair shorter and totally gray. The other two had big, puffy, blond hair. (Again, Texas.)
I was instantly reminded of my own friends, 90% of them happen to be moms like me. We all have young kiddos, mostly under 7-years-old. Our group functions much the same. We laugh and gossip, but we make plans for a rushed lunch that has to happen before the end of the school day and after preschool drop-off. Instead of sharing pictures in person, we keep up with each through status updates, online photo albums and texts.
Watching those grandmothers, I realized something that seems impossible right now. One day, I will be one of those grandmas. I’ll be old with wrinkled hands, telltale sunspots, deep Crow’s feet and serious smile lines. My friends, who are vibrant, fit, flawless and healthy will be those grandmas too. Well, at least I won’t be alone, right? Although even when I’m old and gray, I think I’ll see my friends as I see them today. They don’t look old to me now, so maybe they never will.
My hope would be this: When it’s my turn to be the grandma with the fluffy hair and the snazzy workout gear, and a gal in her late 30s sees me at the gym, I want her to think, “I hope I look that good when I’m really old.” I’d take that as a compliment every time.