Almost a Square on a Quilt

Today is my birthday. I'm 54. There was a time I would not have mentioned my age. Our society does not value aging women.

My long graying hair, that I color sometimes, the wrinkles around my eyes and mouth are acceptable, they're just fine. I'm not dead. When you're not dead, you age. I'm preferring gray hair and wrinkles to dead.

In March 2005, I was at a Native American conference in Denver put on by White Bison (check them out www.whitebison.org). I was sitting with Sam English talking about life and health and wellness and creativity, when I looked across the hall and saw a brilliant quilt hanging on a frame. I asked him about it. Each square on the quilt was made by someone to honor their deceased relative.

I was almost a square on a quilt. Had the circumstances at the time (in 1999) taken me one more mile farther down the road I had been on since the accident, I would have been a square on a quilt.

We all brush up against death multiple times in our lives. In 1999, I nearly stepped off the bridge to the other side. But, I'm getting ahead of myself. I'll let the story unfold for you.