The best year of my young life was my freshman year of high school, when all my friends were seniors.
The worst year was my sophomore year when my friends had all graduated and everyone else got back at me for ignoring them the year before.
I did not enter a restroom on school grounds for the next three years in fear of the frequently stated threat by a classmate to kick my ass if she ever caught me alone.
I've always hung out with older friends. The major exception was my first husband, who was only a few months older than I... and we all know how THAT turned out.
Even though he would have had to have been one precocious little teenager, it doesn't bother or surprise me when people assume I'm my husband's daughter. When we married, I assumed that gap had something to do with why things worked so well for us.
But I was caught with the empty, "it's different when you're older" when my just-18-year-old daughter (temporarily) fell for a 32-year-old.
Low and behold, it IS different when you're older. With a handful of exceptions, my old friends are literally old friends, wise and wonderful with a long shared journey together.
My more recent friends still include those with personal recollection of the Eisenhower admininstration, but also chronological peers and... gulp.. those who missed disco entirely.
Anne and Amy were in third grade when I started college and I knew them for months before the thought crossed my mind. They are smart, strong and funny. Their friendship is a treasured part of me.
In their children (11-16 years younger than mine), I see the best of when my girls were young and a delicious future glimpse at grandparenting.
The personal timeline seems to fade with age, replaced by shared values and interests.
What a shock to learn, after all these years, that (except when applied to Ashton and Demi) age really is nothing but a number.
If I had figured this out in high school, I probably wouldn't have bladder problems today.








Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs