Tomorrow is my birthday!

And it’s a pip.

I’m turning 66.

Holy Gribaldi.  How the fuck did this happen?

I got my letter from Social Security and my checks start arriving in June.

I am more than just OLD now.  I am really OLD.

At least I’m not really fucking OLD — yet.

But I can see it from here.

In my 20s I had no desire to live beyond 40.

I figured at that point, I would have lived all the life I could stand.

In my 40s and early 50s, I kept telling my employer that I would be retiring at 55.

Well, that came and went.

Not only am I still working (albeit part time), I have two jobs (one being freelance).

So here I sit, fat and happy and OLD.

I am sitting here thinking how incredibly blessed I have been and still am.

I’ve lost so many loved ones.  But who hasn’t?

I’ve had some really shitty parts of life.  But who hasn’t?

And my really shitty parts of life were (clearly) survivable.

I have friends, family, a husband – all who love, or at least care about me.

From time to time, I get to get on a stage and indulge my creative whims.

I actually (mostly) really like the person that I have become.

There is nothing that I really need.

There is very little that I really want.

All in all, life is good.

All fucking 66 years of it!

As Jayne Relaford Brown says:

I am becoming the woman I’ve wanted,

grey at the temples,

soft body, delighted,

cracked up by life

with a laugh that’s known bitter

but, past, got better,

knows she’s a survivor –

that whatever comes

she can outlast it.

I am becoming a deep

weathered basket.

I am becoming the woman I’ve longed for,

the motherly lover

with arms strong and tender,

the growing up daughter

who blushes surprises.

I am becoming full moons

And sunrises.

I find her becoming,

this woman I’ve wanted,

who knows she’ll encompass,

who knows she’s sufficient,

knows where she’s going

and travels with passion.

Who remembers she’s precious,

but knows she’s not scarce –

who knows she is plenty,

plenty to share.