When I was a young girl, I often wondered about the kind of old woman I would become. In these musings, Elderly Me usually had long, white hair that I would wear in a braid. She was the author of several best-selling novels, and lived comfortably off the royalties. Healthy well into her 90's, she would die peacefully in her bed, and her life would be celebrated by hundreds of people.
The Me of today has a more realistic view of the aging process. Currently in my 30's, I have back pain, poor eyesight and tinnitus, and I cut my hair short years ago because it was too much of a bother to wear it long. Now when I think about the Me of retirement age and beyond, I wonder if I'll even make it to old age. And if I do, I'll more than likely be the cranky old lady who gets arrested for stealing balls from the neighborhood kids.