Just ask Verna: Age is only a state of mind

More than 70 people have signed Verna Owen's birthday card - and that's just the one from her friends in her bowling league.

Verna turns 95 Monday, and there are seven parties planned in all, spread out over four states and almost a full week's worth of celebration. It's a big deal.

Ordinarily I don't like writing about birthdays because everybody has them. Besides, I'm not Willard Scott.

But while Verna Owen is turning 95 in a few days, she doesn't seem to think it's particularly meaningful. Sure, she likes the celebration, but the feat of turning a year older is of little consequence.

Her bowling league in Chesapeake disagrees.

When it's her turn, Verna walks up to the line, raises the ball to her chest, takes a step back, drops her elbow and throws the ball down the lane with a tiny thump, staring it through until the ball has passed all the pins.

When it's a strike, or teammates get a strike, she gives a high five. When the pins don't fall the way she wants, she shakes her fist. Her bowling team, naturally, is called Verna's Girls.

But it might as well be her league.

"When she walks in that bowling alley, it's like magic," Daphne Stephens, another bowler, told me. "It sort of gives you chills."

Verna has her own place. She gets her hair done every week. She bowls with a handicap of 83. She's won heaps of medals in the Senior Games. She'll be leading a pep rally in Chesapeake in April for the games. She tells a pretty good dirty joke (OK, PG-13 joke). She writes raps (yes, raps) for church. In public appearances, she's sometimes advertised as The Rapping Granny.

The people in the bowling league love all of this. They bowl every Thursday at Chesapeake Lanes, like Verna. They've lived through broken hips, like Verna. They've had knee problems, like Verna. They know what it's like to age, and they want to do it like Verna.

Her birthday matters to them because in a weird, unexpected way, en route to making friends and having fun, Verna Owen's become a role model for how to grow old.

"You see so many people who don't know how to do it," says her daughter, Arlene Tibbetts, 66.

Verna's birthday matters to them because it doesn't matter to her.

"There's no such thing as growing old," Verna says. "If you want to stay young, stay active."

Her bowling buddies ask her what she eats, how she lives.

She tells them to mingle and socialize and always be happy.

They want to give her hugs and kisses every time they see her.

"It makes me feel wonderful. Some people my age can't get out of bed."

When the card was being passed around last Thursday, if one team was overlooked in the signature parade, the bowlers would grumble, find the card and make sure their well-wishes made it for Verna.

Are you really 95? they ask.

"Sometimes," Verna says, "I can't believe it myself."

Mike Gruss, (757) 446-2277 mike.gruss@pilotonline.com