71 The second time around

Amy Bryant, Age 71+

According to the calendar, my 72nd birthday is coming up; and calendars don’t lie. Neither do I as a rule, but this year I’ll be making an exception and I will tell the big lie.

The thought of 72 makes me shudder. For me, that was the year that defined old age with its white hair, wrinkles, and granny fat. Don’t get me wrong, I love having grandkids, it’s just that I’m more the flamboyant, redhead Nana.

Seventy-one was a great year. Newly single (for the third time in my life), moving into an enchanting town, living in the midst of the woods with bayside waters a few paces away; I was surrounded by friendly, creative, loving people. Having reinvented myself as an author, I joined Safety Harbor Writers and Poets.Resurrecting my passion for dance, I joined a local Flash Mob group, performing at street fairs, parades, and the Dali Museum to name a new. 71 was a perfect year; and I intend to keep it that way.

Despite my Medicare card, the big slap in the face of 65, that birthday held no regrets. Perhaps because it was softened by a celebration, given by my kids, and reuniting me with lifelong friends.

I survived several other age-defining years. Remember “don’t trust anyone over 30?” Well at 30, I was long legged, pregnant, and mini-skirt clad; a perfect combination to get me over that fearsome hurdle.

At 50, I was newly single and newly married, each for the second time. Usually mistaken for 35, and being “hit on” by men in their late 20s, I sailed through that milestone without flinching.Except for my AARP membership that my mother, in a fit of mischief, gave me as a birthday gift.

Despite my Medicare card, the big slap in the face of 65, that birthday held no regrets. Perhaps because it was softened by a celebration, given by my kids, and reuniting me with lifelong friends.

So here I am, at the close of my 71st year. A year filled with newness, adventure, some challenges, but mostly the feeling of adolescent freedom and wonder. You think I’m giving that up? Not anytime soon. So when you wish me Happy Birthday and sing, “how o-old are you?” I’m going to lie, totally guilt free, because this year I’m going to be 71…the second time around.