BRENT STOLLER

A hopeful, (sometimes) humorous take on the traumas of infertility and pregnancy loss.

Is Age More Than Just a Number?

The older I get, the more I’m reminded I’m getting old.

The other day, my friend emailed me that the first episode of “Seinfeld,”which I saw live, aired 27 years ago this week.

The other night, my wife and I watched Chris Rock’s “Bring the Pain” stand-up comedy special, which debuted 21 years ago — the year I started college.

And a few weeks ago, when we started re-watching “Cheers,” I looked up how old Ted Danson was when the show began in 1982.

He was 34.

I’m 39.

It’s funny, because I don’t feel 39, nor do I (believe I) look 39.

I say that, yet after every workout, I experience aches and pains I never did before. And after every haircut, the floor is blanketed in discards of gray.

My mind apparently opts for its own interpretation of reality.

The old saying goes that age is just a number. And it is.

But as mine increases, so too do my fears that I’m not as far along as I should be, that I haven’t accomplished what I think someone my age should have accomplished.

That’s not a healthy mindset to have. And I’d love it if I could respect my own process as opposed to comparing it to faceless others.

But there’s also a part of me that would love it if I could use these ever-present reminders as a wake-up call to pick up the pace.

*****

This originally appeared on 100 Naked Words.