ON NEARING SEVENTY
by Janet Adams Dunn
This one is different.
The sixty-nine others came and went so smoothly.
They didn’t change me, or cause discomfort.
They didn’t mess with me like this one.
I still felt the same and smiled each year.
I even scoffed, “You can’t scare me”, I said,
With confidence. But not this one.
Seventy? Is seventy old?
It sure doesn’t feel old. Not even close.
I still deadlift and grow strong new muscle.
I walk fast and hold myself up straight.
I still dance and move with rhythm.
I still seek knowledge, and laughter and …. affection.
I am still quite alive, thank God.
Yet I wonder ….
Are years counted on all my fingers,
Of one hand or two? Oh God I pray for more.
How many hugs and holidays with my children?
Or glorious sunrise snuggles and coffee?
It’s far too foggy and unsafe ahead. I prefer clarity.
I already miss what I don’t even know I will miss.
I grieve. I think too much.
These thoughts are new to me.
They swirl around inside my mind like fake snow,
floating and trapped within a water globe,
never comfortably settling. Drifting without answers.
Taunting me with uncertainty.
Don’t speak to me the platitudes,
or feed me false assurances.
I have heard them too many times.
I have even spoken them all …. to others.
I realize now they are powerless,
As I start my eighth decade.
Yet ….. this unsettledness, these thoughts,
The anxiousness – there is another side.
A different meaning to “uncertain” seventy.
It speaks to me in dark of night.
I feel it’s urgency when I wake.
It’s my own voice and it’s growing louder.
It shakes and moves me. It even dares me.
It is time. It is now.
Or not at all.
Blue Tattoos
by Janet Adams Dunn, age 72
I often thought that someday,
I might get a tattoo, a whimsical one,
Small, but beautifully colored,
Something meaningful, and blue,
Perhaps on my ankle or my inner wrist.
My life changed in the last four months.
I now have a tattoo, four actually,
Four small tattoos on my chest.
They are tiny, like the dots of a blue pen,
Barely visible to the untrained eye.
But yes, they are small, and blue,
And yes, they are very meaningful.
My new tatoos are easily located,
By the trained eyes
Of the radiation oncologist.
They guide my daily radiation therapy,
To the precisely calculated area
Of my right breast.
I will have these four blue tattoos
For the rest of my life.
I pray that because of them,
I will have more breaths, more gratitude,
More sunsets, more laughter,
And more days with my children.
More breaths.
More days.
Hope rises.
My goodness. Is this for real?
Did you ever hear the song
Don’t worry Be Happy! It’s a good song Bobby McFerrin
Not much more you can do but take Xanax.
Just came through “Irma” at 70.
With my 74 yr husband.
Still no power.
So whatever life is left I truly appreciate it. Looking forward to 71 next year.
Patty
Dear Jane and Ellen!!
My goodness!
How wonderful to open the 70 candles website blog and see my poem!!
Tomorrow is my “big day” – yes I am turning 70 on August 27. What a birthday treat and honor for me to open this email and see that you have shared these thoughts with other women.
Love and blessings to you both!
Janet
Janet,
It is a lovely poem, beautifully written…already getting a response.
Happy Birthday to you from us.
Jane and Ellen
Jane and Ellen,
Thank you! I am celebrating this weekend in the Yucatán in Mexico where I finished your wonderful book (pic below). I really connected to many of the stories. I also climbed the highest Mayan pyramid on the peninsula!
I’m a retired professor too. A friend of mine (who also just turned 70) and I are thinking of starting an ongoing “70 Candles” group in our area (College Station, Texas) for both discussion and fun. We may have more questions for ya’ll later if that’s OK?
Thanks again,
Janet
Yes, wonderful. I try to live by the last two lines.
This sums up 70 in the perfect way for me! Amazing poem..such powerful thoughts.
Thank you.
Joan Gracie