Today, I’m officially forty-seven. I love my birthday. I even love being my age. I’ve never been able to understand why some people lie about or hide their age. I’m proud I’ve made it this far in one, functional piece.

Once in a while someone tells Charlie and me that they think we’re inspiring. I joke and say they really must mean “expiring,” but you know what? I have to admit that in my heart of hearts, I think we’re inspiring, too. It’s one of the luxuries that has come with age. I’ve grown the ability to appreciate this life for the amazing-ness it really is. It inspires me to take care of myself and continue to test the blurry boundaries of my real limitations. An object in motion remains in motion, and I’m movin’.



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