Officially Old

I hereby declare that I am officially old.  By the calendar I will turn eighty in October.  The truth is I became "Old" the day Cesar died. My celebrations on October 6th will be directed at my darling granddaughter, Katelyn. who was my great birthday treat when she was born.

In reality, with no one any longer obliged to pretend I'm still in pretty good shape for long walks, late talks or candid photos, it is much easier to own up to really bad skin, easily exhausted on hikes that would have been no big deal at this time last year, and the constant reminders in every mirror.  I'm not pretending to like being old.  I'm minorly grateful to have as few health issues as I do.  Most of all I'm dreadfully aware that no one gives a damn now.  He did.  I wanted him to be comfortable with our difference and accept me.  

 Now it doesn't matter.  Hair needed cutting? So what.  Tired on the way up the hill? Very. 

 I guess as long as I have any memory left (it has never been very good) I will mourn his absence and celebrate the gift he was.  

 But  celebrate "our" birthday?  Last year we were together and that is a celebration.  No mas.  No Cesar, no celebration.

 Funny, acquaintances who go on year after year about the passing of friends in their lives also question me because I'm "not dealing with it well."

 I waited a very long time to have a "love of my life."  

 So please join me in skipping my birthday.  

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