When is One Old?

My mother-in-law is twenty years older than Rupert Murdoch.  Before the Committee of the English House of Commons, Rupert Murdoch looked like a frail, eighty year old man--except, course, he's not; he's a manipulative, monopolizing old coot--they are not the same.  I imagine if he was a neighbour or an old man settled in an old age home, he would be one of those stubborn wise guys who believe they have seen more of the world than anyone.  But money, apparently, makes the difference...

Sometimes, it is very hard to make people understand my mother-in-law, at 100, is still in charge of her own destiny.  Life is a complete set of contradictions; the woman likes to think she doesn't need any help, but I must be available for those times when she does need it; this, of course, leads to resentment on my side.  No one likes being taken for granted.  But, my question is do we ever realize we are old?  I am in an unique position to consider this because the matriarch is old but my husband is 18 years older than me and, although he is past 60, I don't feel he is old.  The matriarch's neighbour in her old neighbourhood thought himself an old man at 65, he moved into a senior's complex, and is now dead.  Yes, I know illness actually killed him but was there, perhaps, an element of giving up?  Of no longer feeling young or optimistic or having a future?  I don't know what makes one feel old or how, or if, it is necessary to always feel young but that feeling is important.  The potential of life is important and I don't think it is discriminatory.  This post strikes me as a contradictory.  There is a difference between being old, as in mature, and old, as in age.

The matriarch is an old woman but if I was being honest, I would have to admit she is immature; does that make her young?  Anyone who can just expect others to bow to their expectations, ie like going to a restaurant every, single week, is immature, young, childish--does that feeling of entitlement enable one to live as though they are still young?  I cannot but compare Rupert Murdoch to my mother-in-law which seems weird in one way but, if he is guilty of the domineering behaviour of which he is accused, is he not the same?  If he was a senior in an old age home, his behaviour would not be acceptable.   Does money make the difference? Power?  Do we ever abdicate our sense of responsibility? Or our sense of entitlement?

As much as I consider these things, I keep thinking of my husband...He's older than most of my family and, yet, I would argue he is treated as though outside the normal strands of behaviour.  His children are the same age as my second cousins but he is older than most of my Aunts and they are grandmothers.  It is all so weird.  But when I saw Rupert Murdoch on television, I kept thinking he is a frail, old man--particularly when his wife slapped the man who threw the shaving cream pie on him.  She was protective of an old man not a husband.

The matriarch has never been married to a man older than her; this fact does not bode well for me.  All of her husbands (3) and both her boyfriends (2) were notably younger than her.  In fact, she once met a man who was interested in her until he found out her age--yes, he's already dead and she is still looking.  I think that sense of optimism is what makes her attractive; only an old woman with no teeth and questionable eating habits could feel so attractive.  The woman never feels old--though, realizing she is 100 has aged her; I think sometimes it has knocked her for a loop, but she still seems to enjoy the ride of life.  These are things I am pondering at the moment...It's funny but as I write this I realize I keep forgetting how old I am...what does that say about me?