I remember as a child how time seemed to pass so slowly. It felt like infinity waiting for Christmas to come around. Now, it seems I barely get my Christmas decorations put away before I have to pull them out again.

Age seems to be an anomaly. At first, we long for minutes to hurriedly tick away, rushing to grow up as time passes, and when we get older we invariable look for ways to turn back the clock.

As a child, I certainly remember many occasions when I was in a dash to mature. Adulthood appeared so glamorous. No bedtime rules, no food restrictions. Grownups could eat candy whenever they pleased!

Obviously, I grew up, and yes, there have been perks becoming a grown up. I remember getting to college and thinking, “I can have Coca-Colas anytime I want!”

Okay, so maybe I still had some growing up to do, but if there had been any doubt of when I finally crossed over into the world of adulthood, it was when I became a mother.

Responsibility trumped abandoned freedom, and being charged with taking care of a little person solidified for me that I was no longer a youth.

However, I vowed I would never become an old fuddy-duddy.

I was determined I was going to be a “cool” grown up and continue to listen to contemporary music, wear up-to-date fashions and never, under any circumstance, go gray.

Up until this week, I thought I had managed to pull off being hip, but I realized I was getting old.

It was not because my joint pain was acting up or that another wrinkle had crawled across my face.

It was my thinking.

In all my efforts to stay physically and aesthetically young, I realized I was no longer viewing the world out of the same lenses as those when entering adulthood years ago.

The other day when I was chatting with a couple of young guys working with me at the newspaper, I realized I was becoming a dinosaur.

Listening to their views of life seemed so foreign to me, and when I responded with my views, the looks they returned became the nail in the coffin.

I was old.

Funny, I have children their age and had not noticed I was becoming out of touch. I guess it’s because my work colleagues and I interact as equals. They are not my children; they are adults just like me.

I drove home from work upset, not at them, at myself.

When had this happened to me?

I do not want to grow old and lose touch!

I shared with my husband my disappointment, and because he has a bit of experience helping people with issues, he was able to ease my distress a little.

I began to realize there is no way I could view the world exactly as someone younger. Nor do they have the ability to go back in time and experience my world.

I can accept this, and I will try to be open to new ideas, but I will never under any circumstance go gray!