GLASGOW — On my garage wall hangs a composite picture of the Class of 1964. It once hung with the scores of other pictures in the front hall of the high school. When the new high school was built at its new location, and preparations were being made for renovation of the former school, the class pictures were taken down and given away. Out of incredible kindness on the part of a person in the system, the picture ended up in my hands and I am grateful to have it.

The other day I was looking at my classmates and how little we have changed! Oh, that’s not true. We have changed on the outside. Years have a way of turning our smooth faces into weathered ones, and our brown locks into over-permed, over-colored shades of red, brown, blond and black.

Each time I see my classmates, I think of them, as they were when we were young, not as they are now. I know that is not typically the case, but it is what I do. However, I know we aren’t what we once were. The mirror is ultimately the judge!

Unfortunately, I have noticed my age more than ever just in the last couple of years. That I am physically unable to do what I once did without some grunts and groans has sneaked up on me. I admit my inabilities, but I don’t like to be reminded by anyone else.

“You can’t get up on a ladder and paint,” I have been told. “You’ll end up with a broken hip.”

“I will not!” I will nearly die trying, and when I finished a project, I will “take to my bed” with my shoulders hurting and my feet aching. You can bet that I will never act as if I feel one bit of pain.

When someone insinuates I am getting a little too “long in the tooth” to do some things, that’s when I will do them or else. That is why I hate when people say things that slap an age on me.

For example, I had been riding for a few hours and made a stop outside of Nashville at a Walmart. Like all women, we have one destination first. I was stiff-legged and limping as I entered the bathroom. In front of me was a woman in her late 40s who started to go into the handicap stall. She looked at me and said, “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you need this one?” I assured her a regular one was fine, but she didn’t stop there. “Oh, my mama always.” With that, she caught herself and didn’t finish the sentence.

When I came out and met up with my friend who had heard the conversation and was laughing hysterically, I just shook my head.

Then later I was at a crowded food court at a trade show/market and two ladies asked if they could sit with me. Later, when my business partner came to join us, our conversation led to work and then to retirement. One of them stared at my friend and said, “But you look too young to be retired!” There I sat.

The sharpest cut of all usually comes from children. I bought four pump water guns for my grandchildren, who range from seven to two. I couldn’t keep those guns filled fast enough for them. As I watched and filled, I called my oldest over and asked to see his gun. He innocently handed it to me, at which time I began to fire at all of them. Of course, this just escaladed their fun. Then they wanted me to play with them some more. My oldest said, “But you do know it will take a lot of energy.” With that, I chased them in four directions, pounding their little legs. When I ran out of water, and steam, I dug into my purse for my ever-present inhaler.

My mind is not any older than it was when I was a teenager. I do think about things more than I did then. I think more about the world and about the needs of others, but basically my mind is still that of a young person. It is a shame that our bodies wear out, leaving our minds to think of what we once were instead of what we are.