This year CeCe confessed that she realized I was old, when I turned 47.

I couldn’t find a picture from that year.  That was the year my second grandchild was born; the year Wrestler #2 got married, and the year Dad died.  Perhaps I was old that year.

Here’s what I looked like five years after CeCe declared (in her own head) that I was old.

Here I am now with my friend and hair-stylist, Renee.  Yes, I am going to tell you about her.  I just back-burnered it until after NaPoWriMo.  She too much for a poem.

From the inside out, I still feel a lot more like this:

That my neighbor, Cathy, In the background.  Now she doesn’t seem as much younger than me as she did back then.  We still keep in touch.