Barbara J. Hamby

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Reflections on My Age

As I look forward to my 77th birthday, I reflect that many more years have passed than the number I look forward to. However, I’ve always considered 3 and 7 to be lucky numbers for me. Several combinations of those numbers have been good years for me.

Most recently, when I was 73, my book, Find Romance in Later Life, was in the final stages and I met my partner Al, that year. There are other examples of those number combinations, but I won’t bore skeptics with them. Anyway, I’m looking forward to what might occur when I’m 77.

I’ve been a fan of Dorothy Parker for many years and one of my favorites of her poems is The Little Old Lady in Lavender Silk, which begins: “I was seventy-seven come August/I shall shortly be losing my bloom;” and ends: “For contrition is hollow and wraithful/And regret is no part of my plan/And I think (if my memory’s faithful)/There was nothing more fun than a man!”

Now, after that long detour, I’ll return to my original statement. Since so many years of my life have already passed, I have countless events to recall in flashback. Today the red wall of a room I saw on television reminded me of a fad in home decorating from the late 1950’s. I was living in a suburb of Seattle (Mountlake Terrace) in one of many tiny houses built shortly after World War II for returning veterans to buy with GI Loans.

In a newer part of the subdivision, a developer began building larger homes, on several different floor plans, some split level. The living rooms of a number of them were all one color: red, blue or green carpet, with ceilings, walls, and woodwork all matching. I thought the effect was quite weird, but they sold well.

Whenever a flashback such as that occurs, I wonder how my brain makes the connection. Nowadays, it doesn’t always make the connections I’d like. Too often I get the equivalent of “Website unavailable,” when I try to pull up a memory.

Dorothy Parker was optimistic that, at 77, she would shortly be losing her bloom. Obviously, she didn’t think she’d already lost it. I think I’ll not dwell on that.