“I was like a woman at a drawer, putting away her party dresses between tissue paper, and there he stood in the doorway– not Stewart Applebaum, but this feeling– gentlemanly, feral, breathtaking, peaceful, something very close to life itself, asking me for one more dance down in the meadow.”
Rebecca Lee, Bobcat and Other Stories
Getting older is strange. It’s equal parts liberating and stifling. It’s a round of “I do what I want” followed immediately by “I’m old enough to know better.” People look at you like you’re the adult in the room, and you are, even though you may reject their definition of what that means and the expectations that go along with it.
Every new change, whether it’s due to aging or sickness or just boredom, comes with packing away or throwing out the things that don’t fit anymore. Sometimes that feels good; sometimes it doesn’t.
Last Sunday, we celebrated a couple of birthdays by going to the goth club we used to frequent. It was my first time going to their new location, and I was nervous about whether I would like it.
I had fun. I missed the chandelier and the multiple bars spaced throughout the club and the second dance room. I had moments of sadness remembering people we used to see there who are no longer with us.
But the music was a great mix of new and old. There was something for everyone, which is one of the big things that drew me to the club back in the day. All the weird things we each bring to the table were welcome. Everyone can play. Just the way the world should be.
It was a good reminder that I’m not ready to pack away all the party dresses. I probably never will be.
As long as I have breath, I will dance through a thousand open doorways and out into the world.
I hope you have a good week, friends.
M. Suzanne Terry 
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