An Old Woman

I don't think I have ever in my entire life spent my birthday meditating on the coming and going of another year.  But here I sit doing exactly that.  I don't expect to experience any profound revelations as a result...in fact, I simply hope not to talk myself over the proverbial edge! 

You see, there are these wretched things we're all born with called genes. I am reminded of their significance every morning when I awaken with hips and knees that ache for no particular reason...when I experience my daily migraine...and each time a spell of vasovagal syncope strikes.  Buy, hey...it's not ALL bad, you know.  


These same genes have indelibly bound up in them the "blessing" of longevity.  

My paternal great-grandmothers were relatively young (late 70's and mid 80's) when they passed, while my paternal grandmother remains quite healthy at age 86.  But as they say in Southeast Mizzourah, from whence my maternal grandmothers hail, "Them's small taters."

My maternal great grandmother was 104 when she died, and my grandmother (her daughter...see how that works?) was 100.  Oi-vay.  

Could it really be possible that I have not yet lived half my life?  It has been a very long 46 years and I cannot even begin to imagine that I potentially have another 54+ to go!!  All I can think right now is, "That's an awful lot of opportunities left to screw up!"  And, "Thank God the years pass more quickly as we age!"