Seven years ago today, I celebrated my 60th birthday with a lovely gathering of family and friends. Our cocktail napkins read, “I see old people.” Yep, I see old people—or at least I see one in the mirror everyday.
But my definition of old gets older every year. I am now thinking you get old at about 90. Until then, you are merely a little older than average.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know that at 67, I am older than most people on Earth.
Between my 60th party and now I got the Big C, which sort of changed my perspective on everything. So I value each year I have lived to celebrate since then. I value the health I have maintained, the family I love, the friends who helped me during treatment, and those I have made since.
And I don’t feel as old as I apparently am. In fact, my age often comes as a surprise to me.
I hope that continues, that I never seriously feel my age, and that I continue to be able to celebrate my blessings. Who can ask for more?
The lesson of cancer is that life is a blessing. Such a way to learn such a lesson. Such a blessing.