Getting Old or Is this my body?

Been thinking about getting old lately. It might have been when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror the other day and did a double take because I swore it was my mother looking back at me. Perhaps it is the fact that there is very little I eat these days that doesn't get stuck between two of my back teeth--perhaps my gums are receeding?? Or the funny moles that have shown-up out of nowhere, or my left knee that aches through the first half-mile of my morning run, or that there is very little greasy or highly sugary food that doesn't either give me heartburn or leave me with a belated sugar coma. A dear friend and I were swapping these stories of our bodies betraying us the other morning at work--and we were (are?!) truly disgusted at this unnecessary assault . . . after all, we are only the tender age of 37. Growing-up I remember hearing the menopause jokes, or the elderly, "needing-a-cane" jokes, but no one ever prepared me for this wierd late 30's business. Dear friend said the same. She was disgusted by the black circles under her eyes because she hadn't gotten at least 7 hours of sleep. Ah, what happened to the days when we could do anything we wanted without asking our bodies for permission? Who knew that we wouldn't be 18 forever? 

This strange getting older business was corroborated by my big sister last night when we were pondering the fact that her 20th high school renunion is in two weeks. She nailed it on the head when she said, "I know that other people are getting older, and that they are moms with kids who are almost in high school, but not me. I just happen to be someone who is a parent--I'm still actually 18. Other people have 20th reunions, not me." I know exactly what she means, which led me to wonder if other people actually feel like they are their correct age? I'm clearly 20--not quite a child, but with all of the possibilities of my whole life ahead of me. Someone else is the 37-year-old that occasionally wears my clothes and looks back at me from the mirror with my mother's eyes.