Well, you know, we’re all headed there. Old age. I certainly don’t dwell on it and after all I’ve been through I’m glad my survivability seems to stay in tact. One night Hayden had me to do a longevity test, he was about 12, and we filled out the questions together. It came back and said I would live to be 107 and Hayden was thrilled with that assessment. I’ve decided losing him took at least 10 years off my life and I am happy with that number too. So 97 it is.

So I don’t spend much time dwelling on age and getting older. I expect I will continue to work and try to make a difference in this world. At the end of it I want to be able to look around and know I left the world a better place than how I found it. I expect to get there.

Why all this reflection? To talk about the people I don’t understand. My own mother decided a couple of years ago to stop speaking to two thirds of her children. My sister and I were ostracized, yet again, by this most troubled of souls. We’ve been on the outside much more than inside, if we were ever on the inside of her. She never saw Hayden until the twins were born except for a couple of times Hayden and I were visiting my sister then we would see her for a few moments. Hard case that one.

This past week I sent Sierra’s dance recital invitation to her, as Sierra wanted to send it to her, although they have no recollection of what she looks like and don’t remember ever seeing her as she hasn’t seen them since Hayden crossed over. I addressed the envelope for Sierra and we sent her invitation. She returned it, unopened with her handwriting saying “Return to Sender.”

If I had those kind of issues with my children I would have to seek them out, find them and force them to talk through it. And I would apologize, something unthinkable to my mother, and something she’s never done. I won’t be where she is, EVER, I can assure you of that.