Children Grow Up. Parents Grow Old.

George and I started talking about one of those 529 funds for Claire for college. I fear I'm going to break out in hives every time I think about it. Not for the obvious reasons, like the rising cost of college or that my daughter will be ready to leave the nest.

My reasons for gloom and doom are more self-centered. I start thinking about how old I will be then. When you have a child at 44, you're staring social security in the face (if it exists then) by the time your kid graduates from high school. In other words, mom is grandma's age.

I mentioned our impending golden years to George and he said, "Oh, I'll be 60, when Claire goes to college. Jerry's age. He looks great."

I just stared at him. It's true; our friend Jerry looks great at age 60...

"Jerry doesn't have kids," I said.

"You're right," he said. "I'm not going to look like Jerry."

Case closed. I usually don't win arguments that easily.

I recently found a picture of George and me online that was taken before we were married. I was on Google images with Claire looking at the Statue of Liberty. She wanted to see pictures of papa, so I searched my husband's name.

I was surprised when this one popped up. I had forgotten about it. We were at a fancy benefit for A.R.T. New York. Here we are with Director Ginny Louloudes.

Don't we look fresh faced? George doesn't have grey hair yet. I'm actually tan! I don't even remember the last time I was tan. Well, clearly, the last time I was tan was when this picture was taken. Wearing a dress is a distant memory also.

I can't say I would want to go back to the time before we had Claire. My life is much richer and more rewarding now. Before Claire definitely wasn't the good old days. But the days were certainly easier. And I miss that black dress.

I need to find a place to wear that again, no matter that I'm getting old.


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