Thoughts from the Publisher | Aug. 14

When I was a child, I couldn’t wait to be an adult. I saw all the benefits of being grown-up quite alluring. Benefits such as driving, drinking fancy cocktails, wearing stylish hairdos, smoking and dating were irresistible.
Little did I realize that along with those trappings came long hours of working, laundry, cooking, grocery shopping, making car and insurance payments, health costs to consider, paying rent or mortgage, and, on top of all that, handling a heck of a lot of stress when dealing with family members, bosses, children and significant others.
Goodness knows that in my youth I tried to give the illusion that I was older than my years, or at least gave it a good try. My mother kept her eye on me because she knew I was boy-crazy from the day I was born. My father tried to ignore the whole thing. Mom cringed when she realized that I wanted to shave my legs as early as third grade. Also, I’m sure, she was quite nervous when I begged her to let me wear makeup at 11, and she knew that I did my best in junior high school to sneak out of the house wearing nylons, high-heels and short skirts.
My first kiss was in kindergarten at Signal Hill Elementary School when I cornered poor 5-year-old Brandt Authier up against a wall and planted a big one right on his lips. I still remember the look of horror on his face. As a matter of fact, I see that same look on my hubby Steve’s face when he knows I’m trying to kiss him because I want something or I am trying to soften the blow regarding something I’ve done.
Now that I am a grown-up, and am considered a senior citizen in most circles, I sure see things differently. I rarely wear make-up, I haven’t colored my hair in more than a decade, and high heels are out of the question because my footing has gotten a bit wobbly through the years because of twisted ankles and a broken foot that left me with arthritis.
No, growing up isn’t nearly as much fun as I thought it would be. As my stepfather Jay Grommé used to say, “Getting old is not for sissies!”
Besides the aches and pains, at my age I am starting to lose more and more friends and family members. Just this week I lost my cousin Gordon and friend Ellen (former mayor of Signal Hill), both to cancer. They put in plenty of fight, but when it became too much of a struggle they let go. I won’t say that they gave up. I don’t believe they were quitters. It is my opinion that they decided to go home— to their heavenly home. Also, Barbara, the mother of my dear friends Kris and Randy, passed away last week. Barbara had lived in Signal Hill for decades, and at one time her former husband Paul, who passed away several years ago, had been a Signal Hill councilmember.
I know that being a senior citizen and growing older will be difficult. I will one day find that my eyesight and hearing are diminishing and may discover that the list of family and friends that I have left on this earth is shorter than those who have already passed.
Nevertheless, I will face the challenges the best I can, and with any luck, will face them as my mother has— with grace, dignity and a hell of a sense of humor.

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