On Growing Up Instead of Old

I turned 36 this past September.  It didn't bother me.  Getting older never really has, but it's getting harder to deny that I officially have entered adulthood.  And in adulthood time seems to spend itself exponentially faster.  

I thought about this last week while staring at a co-worker at a district meeting.  This coworker turns 40 this year. His first year was my first year.  Our children are less than 4 months apart and currently 2nd grade classmates.  Ten years ago I helped throw his 30th birthday.  Two weeks ago we started plans for his 40^th.  When I first met him he still wore a large gold band on his finger, and I hadn’t even met my would be husband. As I stared at his hair peppered with increasingly more gray I felt like I was looking at a mirror. I began questioning my comfort with aging. 

            Then I stared around the room.  Catty corner from me were two teachers I once mentored who went on to become teachers of the year.  A few tables over were teachers I knew first as students.  Downstairs was a colleague I adopted when he was new to Oakland who now sits in an office that makes him my boss.  At my table were people who I watched become wives and then mothers.  There were people who sent kids off to college who once walked the halls of our junior high.  There were people who knew the pain of divorce and the comfort of healing. 

            I thought about what these same people had watched me go through.  They made me laugh after my miscarriage.  They cleaned for me when I lost my mother-in-law.  They brought food to the hospital so we could eat during our ICU vigil.  They filled my fridge when I brought new babies home.  They covered for me so I could pursue new degrees.  As I stared at these people two thoughts came to mind.  First, if you love, truly love the people you work with like they are family then you know the blessing my work community is to me.  Second, there was no denying it.  I wasn’t as young as I was when I first met these people.  Then I started to wonder if this bothers me. 

            It occurred to me after brief reflection that these people I was surrounded by have watched me grow up.  And I have watched them grow up.  They saw me go from someone who constantly worried about what people thought to someone who knew that you can’t blossom without getting in a few people’s way.  They saw me go from someone who loved a good story to someone who understood which secrets really are.  They saw me go from someone always on the defense to someone who could step back and see the role I played in conflict.  They saw me try to become someone who talks less and listens more.  They saw me grow up not grow old.  I think I can live with growing older because growing older really means growing up continuously if you see the lessons around every corner and the richness life has constantly in store for those who embrace it.  Up is a word with inherently positive connotation – old is not.  I hope those I surround myself with will keep helping me grow up. 

            This reflection came full circle for me last night when a college professor of mine shared a memoir written by Dr. Lucy Stanovick as she battled cancer.  He read a paragraph out loud, and I heard her voice.  (Writing is a gift.)  I wanted so desperately to talk to her.  She was a true coach to me.  We could sit face to face and share teaching struggles, and she heard me without judging or fixing.  She put her struggles out there for me as well.  I remember sitting with her for hours outside of Val Garton’s house while we watched her daughter as Val underwent cancer surgery years before Lucy knew she would follow a similar fate.  These two women played such a role in making me the adult I am today.  I miss them.  As I laid in bed I realized that I get to be them now for many new teachers.  This is a blessing, but it doesn’t make me stop needing them or people like them.  We can’t grow up without people who ask the right questions, offer the right amount of pause, and who love us fiercely.  I want to continue my upward journey in the trip called life by making sure I get as much as I give from those I encounter.  This requires a childlike need of others.  This requires admittance that we can learn from anyone because we don't know everything yet.  We simply aren’t old enough to.  If all goes well, 36 isn’t even a half point.  I’m not old at all, and I have a lot of growing up left to do.