Aging and revelations

I spotted this arrangement on a paving stone near Sue's back door. She said she was going to try painting it, but she got distracted and forgot she had left it there. The red petals are from her tree peony that blooms spectacularly for about 3 days each spring. She loves it best as the petals begin to wilt and fall to the ground, to lose their vibrant redness. Her yard is full of volunteer bluebells.

Saturday's main event was lunch with friends who love to cook and made an array of marvelous dishes: home-made pita bread, home-made hummus, local olives they gleaned themselves, and on and on. Conversation was as varied as the food: politics (both local and international), religion, forms of protest, music, family, books, Zionism, gender, and class. We were generally in agreement on all topics covered. He told some of his family's immigration story, while she told some of her family's history of name-changing and identity-creation.

After Sue and I returned home, we reviewed some of the conversation with pleasure, and then we began to be a little puzzled by some dates that had been mentioned. We got out a calculator and computed how old our friends are, and we realized, to our complete amazement, that we are old enough to be their parents! We laughed till we had tears in our eyes, had to blow our noses, and laughed some more. While we were with them, we felt we were all of a generation. Looking at them, talking with them, we felt we were their age. But they must have realized that we are nearer their parents' ages! We don't feel as old as we are, but we do look our age, and we laughed and laughed at our deluded notions about ourselves.