How to Feel Old

When I first met him he was still a bump in his mother’s stomach. Today I sat at the table with him and his mother reminiscing over the many things we have shared for almost three decades, if not often then in many concentrated periods.

“One Two Three, May I have some Coca-Cola please.”

“Reseau.” I am still not sure of the spelling, but he thinks my pronunciation is better and I now know what it means. I was complimented on my French U, my French R still needs work but since I am from Boston my R needs work in English too. He now speaks excellent English but we went back and forth between the two languages also helping his mother with her English, which is far better then she gives herself credit for.

In my photo album I have many photos of him, one as a baby standing naked at the foot of a bed, riding bikes along the Canal du Midi, a range of others through his growing up.

I had lived with him, his sister and his father when I was in Toulouse, a difficult time for I had sold everything in the US, was trying to find work, learn French and write. I adored both he and his sister and when I had to return to the US convinced my dreams of living and working permanently in Europe were dead but knowing I had to help my mother through her death, I felt the meaning of the words “heartbroken” Leaving both him and his sister was just plain awful. I had a chance to tell him in a way I couldn’t the night I said good-bye to him as he lay in bed, a very bright nine year old, how badly I had felt.

None of these memories made me feel old. When I looked at him he has grown into an adult as handsome as I knew he would (Think John Kennedy Jr. with shoulder length curls). He is as bright as I always knew he was. His sense of humour is even sharper as a mature man.

Nor did I feel old because he is about the same age as his father was when our housemate showed up with the father the night after we moved into a catastrophe of a house we were planning to renovate and announced we had a guest for dinner. Dinner? We couldn’t even find the stove.

What made me feel old was the boy I met as a bump has grey in his hair.