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.