I never really thought of my mom as being "old".
When my parents decided it was time to move into a Senior High Rise, I have to admit I did not like it one bit. They were not old enough for this! I was only 24 years old at the time. Forgetting the ages of my siblings. Who are all much older. I never told them how I felt about this move. They were doing what they felt was right for them. I only had to respect their decision.
While helping them move, Mom and I were in the elevator. This woman just kept staring at us. It was most uncomfortable. After a while this woman finally starts talking.
Woman, "Forgive me, but what is your last name?"
Mom tell her, and explains how she and dad are just moving in.
Woman, "What is your maiden name?"
Mom tells her. The woman's eyes suddenly get larger.
Woman, "Is your mother Zelica?"
Mom "Yes!" Daddy is Arthur"
Woman, "I'm your mothers 1st cousin! You "kids" were young when you lost your mother." Which Mom is the third oldest of ten children. She was 11 when her mother passed.
From there, I couldn't tell you the rest of the conversation(well, I do remember being introduced). I was relieved there was a reason for her staring. At the same time, I was surprised by someone calling Mom a "kid".
Today, Mom is in her 80's. There are sometimes I forget how old she is. Mom is always on the go. Always the first to join in the fun, or try something new. Her laughter carries, and is contagious. Ya know, sometimes she calls laughing so hard she hangs up. I give her a few minutes before I call her back, so she can regain her composure. When I do call her back, there we are laughing within minutes. But then there are times, when the realization of her age hits me like a ton of bricks! Even so, she has become a contemporary and one of my best friends!