I have a feeling I worry more about getting old than the average woman.
Hard to know for sure, but it seems that way from conversations with friends.
But I had a moment come over me like a voice from the universe.
On September 7.
Cliff and I were leaving the hospital in Charlottevsille, Virginia.
We’d just spent two hours with our brand new grandson, Mazen.
It’s okay, the moment said.
You’re the grandma.
He’s the baby.
That’s how it goes.
And the going is good!