The people in this book change the meaning of “senior moment.” The phrase is glibly tossed by people from thirty-five or forty on to describe a momentary lapse of memory. Can’t think of someone’s name? Uh, oh, it’s a “senior moment.” Forget where you put the keys? Likewise.
Was that a glimpse of future decline? Was it merely just a funny toss-away line? Or was the forgetter whistling past the graveyard?
Calling those lapses “senior moments” reinforces the perception that everything about being “senior” is characterized by loss.
We love the fact that the people you meet here – and you, too – are redefining the term.
How about the realization that you just changed a life by befriending a child who needs a friend and role model? That’s a “senior moment!”
What about the first time you were conscious of no longer being required to finish reading a book you really didn’t like? Realized a person you had always avoided was interesting and could be a great friend? Understood that grief subsides and mourning ends?
Fill in all the examples you can think of; these are the true “senior moments.” They are the moments when we realize our own growth, our own human development. They are what becoming a “senior” is all about.
The people in this book are living their “senior moments” as they continue to grow.