It’s funny I keep bumping into people I know more than a decade ago.  Some more than two decades even!  The latest I bumped into was a friend I used to party like three times a week in my 20s and yet, I couldn’t recognise her.  Well, not at first. 

I took note of her only because she kept looking my way.  I glanced at her momentarily and sort of found her vaguely familar, but I couldn’t place her immediately.  It was only hours later that I managed to put two and two together.  It was a bit scary considering we used to be quite close and I couldn’t recognise her!  Maybe it was because we saw each other mostly at night then?  HA!

How much do people change in a decade?  I looked at my ex-boss and I was a bit shocked at how much he has aged; although I could recognise him.  I saw an ex-classmate whom I’ve not seen in almost 30 years and I managed to call her name.  But this woman was different.  When I looked at her face then, I had little impression.  What happened?  Was it her hairdo?  Was it my failing eye sight?  Or was it because I simply have erased her from my memory?

I wonder how I look to people whom I’ve not seen in a decade or more?  Most seem to tell me that I look about the same – not that I haven’t aged – but I guess it’s because I haven’t changed much in terms of weight and *ahem* height.  Or perhaps it was because I have made an impression on them. 

But what about in another 10 or 20 years?  Will I be able to recognise or remember people I used to know?  And will I be recognised and remembered too?

I’m not extremely busy this period but I haven’t felt very compelled to blog in this space. Initially, I thought I’ll keep to once a week but obviously I haven’t been on track. The boy is going to P1 next year and rather than spending my time in the cyberworld, I really prefer to enjoy time with him in the real world.

He’s becoming a real blabbermouth at anything and everything. I’m thankful that there’s school to keep him occupied or I’ll really go bonkers listening to him all day long.  Other than that, I do enjoy our times together at the library, reading books, or playing UNO. I’m also able to bring him out on my own now, thanks to the fact that he doesn’t need to be carried but just need to be reminded not to cause me any embarrassment. And I do love holding his little hand and listening to his baby voice. 

I guess I just want to enjoy mothering him while I can - before he grows taller than me, and in a blink of an eye, is legally able to drink beer.  For now, it’s good he’s just able to sniff at it.

Yesterday, I met my ex-boss, some 13 years later.   I was trying on an umbrella and suddenly, someone shouted my name.  I looked up and what confronted me was an aged man, with a crop of grey hair.  “It’s XX!”  And the first thing I asked was, “what happened to you?  How come your hair is all grey now?”  Even my husband who knows him was shocked.  My ex-boss is six years older than me, but he’s looking like an ah-peh now.  

I guess 13 years is a long time; long enough for everyone around me to grow a lot older.  I’ve got colleagues my age falling seriously ill.  I can sometimes hardly recognise my siblings after a year.  Even my mom looks a lot older just after two weeks.  And it doesn’t help that her health is suffering and she has been talking about death.  

Suddenly, growing old seems such a sad thing.  

The energy is lacking.  The fire is waning.  The memories are fading.  And I wonder why they call it the golden years?  Because it certainly looks a lot more grey than gold to me.