Old Age Day by Day May 3, 2010

My friend and I went on a house tour yesterday afternoon, seeing nine houses with the same architect. It was blazing hot, but we soldiered through. It was a hot job, but somebody had to do it. I'm kidding, of course. It's fun to glimpse these houses inside, these old beauties, and no matter if their clothes are out of date, their hairdos retro, the makeup smeared. From one old dame to another - these babies have got character. And like people, a couple were lovingly preserved - they'd had their spa treatments and healthy diets and facials and pedicures - and others were overweight and still smoked and wouldn't know yoga if it smacked them in the face.

The window seats attracted me. I imagined myself Jane Austen looking out over the hills and dreaming of dances. Reading a book in a window seat is my idea of perfect luxury. In some houses the rooms were cramped and dark; in others the kitchens had been opened up and led to decks and afternoon sun. I admit it, I like the cramped small rooms. I like dark wood, and I like a door that closes and nooks and crannies. What this says about my mind is probably frightening, but there you have it.

When I was fourteen, my family and I spent a summer in Tidewater Virginia in an old 1700th century mansion, and though my parents and brother stayed in a wing that was one story and more modernly equipped, my best friend and I stayed upstairs in the two story main section, with a huge canopied bed, a walk in closet the size of a room, and ghosts traipsing up and down the stairs at night. I have loved old houses from that time, when we would hunt in the library for old books and their inscriptions in spidery handwriting, search through the dusty attic among the boxes of old clothes and letters. I love history, and am sad that most people today don't see the excitement of it. They want the walk-in shower and subzero. I like dilapidation and a sense of other people in other times sharing the space with me.

Maybe this is why my own aging is not causing more distress. I've been some places and done some things. I like other people with a bit of history to them as well. You don't get that by upgrading and remodeling. You get interesting by honoring your path and not turning your back on it.