I turned 50 today, not something I was looking forward to, and to sweeten the pot, Dana died last night. I can’t tell if my eyes and nose are watering because I’m crying or because of the rotten cold I’ve got.
My one twinkle of joy is that one of my favorite people in the universe wrote a hauntingly lovely song for me:
How often does something like that happen?
I know that pets die, viruses don’t, and aging is inevitable.
Still, is today a harbinger that my 50’s are going to suck? Or is this just my 40’s going out with a bang instead of a whimper?