There are those who see coming of age as the age of reason, and others as the age of consent. For them coming of age doesn’t have the same meaning as if does for me. I am a late bloomer. I am just now coming of age. That my outside no longer matched my inside is fine with me. / always liked the humor of opposites.
This year in January, I cut off my long red hair. I have been grinning ever since. This year I got my senior citizen bus pass and the drivers have to lower the bus for me if I have difficulty climbing the steps. I always had difficulty! Those steps are too high! But this year I am allowed to be short and a lady. I’ve come of age.
This year I get the front seat if I want, and younger people have to move to make room for me. While I do like to sit in the front, I have not found it necessary ever to rob someone else of their choice of a front seat. I’m just older, not crippled.
This year I am treated with more respect than in the past. You know the old saying, “The red head walked in and sobriety walked out”, well, I am here to tell you, people do act strangely around a red head. They all seem to melt a bit for a woman with white hair. Same woman. It keeps me laughing. If I had known all I had to do to get respect was to shave my head, I would have done so years ago
Ah, sense. There isn’t a lot of it around, but, for some reason there is still some respect to be gained for simply living long enough to have white hair.
I’ll take it.
