The Middle Ages
("Wait, Who Did You Say is Middle Aged?")
While Ms. Paul speaks of triggers that advise her of a change in status in the arc of her being just wait until the day she fondly remembers being middle aged. Or maybe can't recall much about it, or anything else, at all.
When she finds her favorite musical group disbanded a half century ago. Or worse, still performs at venues filled with very old people. Who it turns out look exactly like her.
When the late show no longer means the one starting at 11:30 PM but anything beginning after she finishes dinner.
When her children have gray in their hair or beard.
When those snowbirds who head for warmer climates as soon as the Thanksgiving plates are cleared now don't seem so wrong after all.
When how do you feel is no longer merely a polite introductory question but the catalyst for the entire conversation.
When names and words somehow have hidden themselves in a part of her brain she can't locate.
When driving at night really does become a big deal.
When all of this is the new reality for Ms. Paul, she will know, as I do now, the next, next step. And wonder what the fuss was about when she found herself no longer listed among the young.