The answer is 64! It’s 64! These words have become the running joke as Lisa, another paraprofessional, and I coax the middle school boys we work with to do their math problems. Sometimes the answer really is 64, but usually it just brings smiles as they work on their required four pages each day.
This week as they worked on fractions, multiplication and decimals, I found myself silently singing a Beatles song. The lyrics, “Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m 64” ran through my head. The kids didn’t know it but soon I will be 64.
Sixty-four really isn’t a problem for me, but an incredible gift. Friday’s life science class taught me this again. The kids have been studying DNA, making paper and foam models of it. On Friday they learned about genetic mutations and the importance of TP53. TP53 is a gene that makes a tumor suppression protein. Seems that my 53 went awry.
At 41 I was diagnosed with stage three breast cancer, our girls were four and eight at the time. I remember praying back then please let me see them graduate. I got that and so much more. And I learned to savor the moments of beauty strewn throughout my days. In the midst of chemo and radiation there was so much goodness in things like our walks with the dog, delicious food delivered by friends and kind thoughts sent in cards and notes.
One member of the church I was serving during this time sent me a simple note each week I had chemotherapy. The notes were on a half sheet of plain paper in her beautiful handwriting. More than twenty years later I still have one of them taped to my bedroom mirror. On it Leigh had written,
“When you come to the edge
of all the light you know,
and are about to step off
into the darkness of the unknown,
Faith is knowing one of two things will happen:
There will be something solid to stand on,
or you will be taught how to fly.” Author unknown
Leigh like too many other people I love didn’t live to be 64. She died in a car accident caused by an inattentive teenage driver. I was with her, her children and her good friend Janell at the hospital when she died. We sang to her over and over, “You are held by holy angels “ She was taught to fly.
I often walk our dog by the spot where the car accident happened. It’s only a few blocks from our house and near a creek we like to hike. The spot is a reminder that each day is a sacred gift. Life is filled with brutal beauty.
I am so grateful to still be alive. The answer is 64! And yes, Tim will still need me, Tim will still feed me when I’m 64.
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