I have a group of girlfriends from my high school class that have connected in a big way here on Facebook. It started by sending a private message to multiple recipients and it has taken on a life of its own. A few of us knew each other well in school, but there are several who were only names and faces in a yearbook until a year or two ago. We have bonded. We share each other's joys and sorrows. We support and encourage each other. If we haven't seen one of our number online for awhile, we send out the "search party" and start making phone calls. We get together once a month for coffee and we laugh and laugh. We are the "Sisters of St. Starbucks".

Ok…show of hands. How many of you have felt invisible? Is it just me, or are we becoming more and more invisible the older we get? We are often overlooked, discounted, discarded. We aren't given the good jobs. We're overlooked for promotions and shuffled out the door with early retirement offers…or more often than not, flat out replaced. Doctors don't always listen. Neither do nubile young store clerks. And when we assert ourselves…when we stand up to be counted…when we are a force to be reckoned with, we are labeled a B1+<# or the "problem patient". We were trained to "be nice", "don't rock the boat", "be a good girl". At least, that's what I was taught. I'm getting much better at asserting myself, especially now that I am on my own.

I love Sunday. I get to go to Church. I didn't always go. As a matter of fact, I was a good Jewish wife and mother for 27 years. I was frightened out of believing when I was a very young child. I followed the "Church of Ginny" for a number of years until I had a roommate who was Jewish. I started following the holidays and traditions because I loved the sense of family it gave me. I loved God. But I had a fear of Jesus after that scary preacher yelled at me and told me I was going to go to hell. I was six. So, with Judaism, I could have a relationship with God and leave it at that.

I don't know the exact date, but I began this page in January 2013. I've written very nearly every single day for two years now, minus a short stretch immediately following Mr. Virgo's death. Writing has become as second nature to me as dressing and brushing my teeth. If for some reason I cannot write a post, I feel so off-kilter I can hardly stand it. And, as much as I love to talk, every so often I get a little "writer's block" and I panic. What if I've finally run out of things to say? What if I've told every story I have? What if this is all there is….days and weeks and months of death and dying and grief only to be faced with a little sunshine and a lot of "What now?"

I've battled the scale for the very last time. Yesterday was the first day in a gym in probably seventeen years. Thank God I have a friend in the same boat as me or I might not have gone. We both could think of a hundred things we would have much rather been doing on this cold, snowy morning. But, there we were.

You've heard the old adage….Whether you think you can or you think you can't…you're right. I used to exercise like a fiend. Far too much, as it turns out. Then I went to the comfortably soft end of the couch and stayed there. I've made every excuse in the book for why I "can't" exercise. It's too hot. It's too cold. I'm too tired. I have a headache. I'm SO out of shape, there is NO way I'm going to get back. Mr. Virgo died and I don't want to go out there alone. Yeah, right. The truth is, I just plain DON'T WANT TO! However…my body is starting to change my mind for me. I'm finding it more difficult to get up off that comfy couch…literally as well as figuratively. I'm finding myself short of breath at the top of these stairs to the apartment where I am house sitting. I'm finding clothes don't fit right and I'm getting entirely TOO comfortable in mom jeans and leggings.

I consider myself to be fairly technologically savvy. I'm a gear head…I love all the latest gadgets and gizmos. Mr. Virgo used to roll his eyes at me with my laptop, iPad, iPhone, landline phone and sometimes all the remotes. Now I also have a FitBit, an external hard drive, and a photo scanner. I sat down two days ago to get things set up to scan photos and it's been one thing after another. I had to download updates and install the external hard drive, iTunes and the Cloud on the new laptop. Now I'm trying to figure out how to get my pictures off my iPhone without them coming back down from the cloud. A friend of mine told me how to get them off the phone so I'll try that today. I need to back up both the iPad and the iPhone then back everything up to the external hard drive. THEN I can install the new scanner and start scanning the photos. I love techie stuff, but I kept getting interrupted and distracted so it has taken me two days and I'm still not done. One of the biggest distractions is musing about what I'm going to do once the two months of house sitting is done. March might be a little early to pack up the camper and head out on a road trip. I have friends in Belize who have been after me for years to come down for a visit so that's a possibility. I also have a sister-friend in Florida that I could go see but I would want to tote TOW-Wanda if I go there. These are things that sit in the back of my mind when I'm working on something else. I can't just turn it off and focus on one thing.

Today is my "Re-Birthday". Today is the day I celebrate not dying. Fifteen years ago today, I was at the lowest point of my life. I was in a marriage that was crumbling at my feet, I was depressed and desperately unhappy. I had been on a medical treadmill for seven years taking ungodly amounts of prescription medications and was self-medicating with alcohol to dull the emotional torment. While not necessarily intentional, I overdosed on January 6, 2000 and could have very easily died. I climbed back up from the bottom of the barrel and rebuilt myself and my life. It was not easy, it was not pretty, but it was very real and absolutely necessary in order to survive and thrive. I am extremely grateful for every day I am given and thank God for the blessings He affords me daily.

I'm loving this little corner. Plants, light, a quaint view. What a lovely setting for a cup of coffee and my morning musings. I like to set the tone of the day by reading something spiritually based…either my bible or a devotional of some sort. I especially enjoy reading Kristine Carlson's posts here on Facebook. She co-authored Don't Sweat the Small stuff with her late husband, Richard Carlson. Kristine has a wonderful way of breathing light into my mornings. Liz Gilbert of Eat, Pray, Love fame is another good read. There is always something thought provoking to get my mind up and running.

Aging ain't for sissies. Neither is grief. One can feel amazingly strong and rock solid in one moment and fall apart in the next. The fragility of my heart surprises me every single time the switch gets flipped.

As some of you may know, I have THE most awesome brother on the planet. He was born with cerebral palsy and has a resultant developmental disability. He is sweet, charming, funny, guileless. He lived at home with our mom until her unexpected death eleven years ago. He had never learned to do anything for himself. After mom died, he came to live near me in Colorado. He learned how to take care of himself and lives in as independent a setting as he can. He is my hero.