In the midst of January....

...and the days keep flying by. Good grief.

With my 65th birthday coming up at the end of this month (good grief again) my husband and I went to the local tax office to fill out the over-65 forms. Apparently, the state gives you a 'ceiling' on your taxes... because I'll be 65, they won't be raising the property/school taxes anymore. (One can only hope... but I think that's what will happen.)

My friend C already has that over-65 exemption because her husband is older than she is... and C told me to be prepared to see the letters O.A. stamped on our tax papers from now on. "O.A?"  What does that mean?  C told me that it means 'Old Age.'  Well, pooh on that.  As C explained about the exemption, my word-filled mind got to thinking and within 7 seconds, I was telling C that O.A. didn't stand for Old Age..... in my mind it stands for Outstandingly Adorable and the tax people had better take note.

Again, I repeat.... pooh on that. Old age, my blessed foot. I can still do everything I did in my 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s... and then some.

Pooh on this also.... one of my friends passed away last week... the wife of the library director, from the library on Long Island where I used to work.  Barbara was such a great lady... full of fun and mischief, and when I wrote the newsletter for the library staff years ago, she saved my editorial butt when my stories got more on the sarcastic side than the funny side.... which is bound to happen when you work in a public library.  Barbara and Mr. H retired when they were 55, leaving the library and moving to Pennsylvania, and then proceeding to bring their beloved bicycles along in their vast travels, cycling all over the United States and Europe. They had a blast,... sending postcards to the staff and letting us know where they were... and of course 'the editor' sent them the latest copies of the newsletter so they would know what we were all up to.

I kept in touch with Mr. and Mrs. H for all of these years... and when my husband and I got married, they came to our wedding.... I danced with my old director and Gary danced with Barbara. The H's traveled to Texas to visit us at our previous home in Clear Lake, and they were here at our home in the Hill Country as well. For the last couple of years, Barbara had been very ill, confined to a nursing home but still maintaining her vibrant attitude. I sent her cards every week, ever mindful of her support during my library days when the Library Board frowned at my newsletter, which was always saved from extinction by the director's fun-loving wife.

Last week, my phone rang and I saw Mr. H's name come up.... it was late evening... I knew it wasn't going to be a happy phone call.  He told me that Barbara had passed away... painlessly and quietly... her body just gave up after a bout with pneumonia.  "We had such a good life," said my old boss. "We were able to do everything we wanted to do, and then some. We had no regrets."

Mr. H thanked me for all of the cards I had sent to his wife over the years... she had saved each one, marveling over the sheer number of them. I promised that I would keep sending cards... which would be addressed to him now rather than Barbara.  After we said good-night, I thought of his words about their life.... such a good life.... we did everything we wanted.... no regrets.  Well, if that isn't a perfect legacy, I don't know what would be.  If there is indeed a heaven, then Barbara is up there right now with her bicycle, bouncing along on the clouds.