Senior citizens

 When Do We Actually Become Senior Citizens?

There are two or three pews in our church reserved for senior citizens, particularly the elderly or infirm. Our church is more often than not packed, with people standing at the back or looking for somewhere to sit, yet these particular pews can remain empty for quite some time.

Then, halfway through the service, someone of almost any age will quietly walk in and occupy one of them. Nobody says a word.

My wife and I have always avoided these seats. We have felt that if someone older or someone who genuinely needed them came along, those seats should be available. But perhaps there is a flaw in that thinking. If everyone who qualifies thinks the same way, the seats could remain empty when someone actually needs them.

On one occasion, however, there wasn't much space, so we reluctantly sat in one of the reserved pews. We had barely settled down when an over-officious usher appeared and politely told us that those seats were reserved for senior citizens.

I looked at her and asked, "What age?"

She smiled.

It was a lovely, polite smile, but it also said quite clearly, Sir, let us not go there.

She suggested that we move to the next row.

We did.

I couldn't help smiling afterwards because there is something rather amusing about growing older.

Most of us don't mind getting older. What we don't particularly like is being treated as old.

You can be 60, 70 or even 80 and still feel perfectly young. You can travel, work, drive, climb stairs, go to the gym and carry on with life. In your own mind, you are still the same person you have always been.

Then someone points you towards a special seat for "senior citizens" and, suddenly, you wonder when exactly you acquired the label.

Perhaps that is the problem. The people who qualify don't necessarily want to announce the fact.

I have decided I am past worrying about it.

I am a senior citizen. I may not be infirm, but I am certainly not going to argue with my birth certificate.

Perhaps the sensible thing is simply to accept growing older for what it is. We can remain active, enjoy life, laugh at ourselves and accept a little consideration when we need it.

Growing older is inevitable. Looking older, however, is something we can still negotiate.

So the next time I see those reserved pews empty, I may just walk over and sit down.

And if the usher appears again with that same polite smile, I think I will smile back and say, "This time, I think I qualify."

After all, there has to be some advantage to getting older.