The morning is cloudy and chilly at 43 °, sweatshirt weather. I’m staying close to hearth and home today. I have bird feeders to fill and plants to water. I may even vacuum, but I don’t want to put undue expectations on myself. I did sweep the kitchen yesterday.

I am, by all external measures, old. My face is wrinkled, my hair mostly gray, and I tend to stoop. I can’t carry anything heavy or see without my glasses. I can’t walk far. I have to keep stopping. But despite all of these, I look through young eyes as if I haven’t aged. I am always a bit surprised when I look in a mirror. When I was young, I always wondered about old people, how it felt to be old. Now I know. 

To quote myself, “In many ways I have become obsolete. The words and phrases of my youth have disappeared. When was the last time anyone ever asked for a church key? I remember calling dibs for a window seat in the car. I wore thongs on my feet. We got blitzed at parties. Couples made out at the drive-in. Some couples even went all the way which might have resulted in the family way and the girl going to her aunt’s. Some people were stuck up; others were finks. Life was cool,  and groovy.” 

My mother and father had their words. My father used to take his clothes to the cleanser. I found out much later that the word is endemic to Boston. My father grew up in East Boston. Everywhere else it was the dry cleaners. My mother used the word nosh. I figured out it meant food, a snack maybe. It took me a while to figure out who Jack Robinson was. I just knew he was quick. None of these are used anymore. We are the last generation to hold on to our parents’ words. They will disappear just as our words will. 

In the car I always listen to oldies. I suppose golden oldies would be a more apt description. I sing along and keep the beat on my steering wheel. I don’t know contemporary music. I know the names of singers, but not what they sing. I’m okay with that. Right now Joni is singing from my turntable, on a 33 1/3 record.

Old age comes. I just don’t let it define me.

The morning is lovely, chilly though, in the low 40’s. Last night was downright cold, in the 30’s. We seem to be limping into spring. The shoots in the front garden are taller but have no buds yet. 

I stood on the deck for a while watching the dogs. I could hear the birds and saw more at the feeders than I have in a while. Yesterday I bought some more seed, sunflower and thistle. The gold finches are here every day, five of them this morning. They are starting to get more color. 

The house behind me used to keep the outside light on every night, but I noticed a few days ago it had gone dark. Another house had lights on, inside lights, all night. That too is dark. The houses on each side of mine are empty. Across the street, beside each other, are two houses with people, but their shades are down so I don’t see their lights. Unless there is a bright moon, darkness envelopes my neighborhood, except for my yard. I still have Christmas lights shining outside every night. When I was last out and about, I was surprised that several houses are still lit with either white or colored lights. We are all trying to keep the darkness at bay.

When I was a kid, a street light was on the sidewalk below the small grassy hill in front of our house. It wasn’t just a light. It was a clock sending us inside when its light came on. In the winter, when it snowed, the light shined on the flakes and highlighted their shapes. I’d watch from the picture window in our living room. I’d watch a long time.

When I was young, my family often had parties. My mother’s Aunty Clara, my grandfather’s sister, was the oldest of everybody. My grandparents, my mother’s parents were there. My mother and some of her siblings were there, Uncle Jack, Uncle Joe, Aunt Bunny and Aunt Barbara. I was the oldest grandchild and was usually there with some of my cousins. Singing was always a part of every party. I remember everyone gathered around the kitchen table at my parents’ house drinks in hand and voices raised. St. Patrick’s Day was one of my favorite parties. They sang all the Irish songs. It was the best time. 

My dance card has one more event, another concert this afternoon.