I don’t think of myself as “old”. But what IS old? I mean, when does old start? Does it creep up slowly? Is it an overnight thing – where you go to bed one night middle aged and wake up the next morning old? I don’t believe that old is tied to a number, an age. I have known people who were in their 30s that felt “old”. I had a beautiful interaction this weekend that made me realize, in the eyes of the world around me, I am indeed “old”, no matter how I feel or look in my own eyes when I look in the mirror. And while at first that was a bit jarring to me, as I pondered it I thought back to all of the “old” women in my life, and I smiled. I have become Mrs. Binder. Mr. and Mrs. Binder were our next-door neighbors growing up in Omaha, Nebraska. I lived in the same house from the time I was born until I left for college, and Mr. and Mrs. Binder were a constant. When I look back now, I realize that we did...