I Did the Hokey Pokey

And I turned myself around

Image by the author

I turned 67 last week.

I have a hard time even admitting that fact. I mean….67???? Like the ’67 Red Sox?

Sixty-seven is a BIG NUMBER.

I am officially old.

On my birthday last week, I woke up feeling sad, used up, worn down, achy, and ancient. But it was Thursday. That meant that it was “Music With Row-Row” day, and I was obligated to bring my almost three-year-old grandson to his toddler music class.

Yippee.

I made an extra cup of coffee and put on my stretchy jeans. And off we went.

I have to be honest, I was feeling sorry for myself. Over the course of the past two years I have experienced a breast cancer scare complete with surgery, the loss of my mother, and a craniotomy to remove a benign tumor from one of my cranial nerves.

I am now an aging orphan with a lopsided and scarred breast, no hearing in one ear, a giant scar on the back of my skull, and a pretty serious loss of balance.

Oh, poor, poor me.

You need to know that I have spent those two years putting on a pretty happy face. I have reminded myself over and over again about just how lucky I am. I do this for two reasons. One: I am seriously wicked…