There I stood in my jeans and bright blue embroidered top, sporting my newly highlighted bob haircut. The woman at the counter swiveled the iPad towards me to sign for my breakfast charge at the well-loved Baguette Magic on James Island this morning. As I was tapping in a 15% tip for her, I noticed on the iPad my name, plus an appendage – the word “Older”.  Hmmm, I thought. “Jane Spelce Older” it said right there before my eyes. I began to realize what it meant. Swiveling the pad back towards her, I smiled and pointed, asking, What’s this? Oh, she said, That’s just to let me know whose order is whose  –  You know, “older” or “blue shirt” — that sort of thing.

I mumbled to myself:  Wish, indeed, that it had said “Jane Spelce Blue Shirt”.

Older, eh?  I had noted those pesky lines around my eyes this morning.  My, how they crinkle when I smile.

The truth is, I really love who I am at this age. I don’t like the occasional creaky joint. On the other hand and more importantly, I really like the peace and satisfaction I’ve gained from years (and years and years and years) of life’s lessons.

I like the calm completeness I feel, knowing I’ve finished raising my children and can now simply enjoy watching them flourish. I like the feeling that I can navigate any storm, because I’ve become a master sailor through life. I like working on my house or someone else’s house, or a special event, or a project, and that feeling of truly knowing what I’m doing, pulling all sorts of knowledge up from the library in my head, a library that’s been filled with tools and methods gleaned from lovely decades of learning and doing.

Truth is, Baguette lady, I am indeed Jane Spelce Older. And it’s a real good and joyful thing, if I do say so myself.

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