Remember when I told you guys that I like old people? I wasn’t kidding. I’ve had an increasing curiosity with them in the last decade. I find them fascinating to watch. I semi-stalk them in stores. I notice what they purchase, how they walk, their spouse.
But the most fun part of stalking the elderly? Imagining them as young folk.
That’s right. It’s become a mild obsession of mine. What did they look like when they were teenagers, when they married, when they were 30? Where did they live? Where did they work? Who
are were they?
I think getting my first wrinkle last year (shut up) probably sparked a lot of it. Nothing like bona fide change in the mirror to make you realize the cold hard fact that time is passing. That you’re getting older. Every. Day. That eventually those days turn into weeks, and months, and years, and then before you know it 20-somethings are semi-stalking you in Kroger.
I really really should start visiting a local nursing home like my hippy friend who blogs from the boonies. Just sit and listen to their stories and look at their pictures. A terribly interesting and unique generation is passing before our very eyes, y’all. We need to take advantage of their history before it’s gone.