Will ya still need me, will ya still feed me...

Yesterday I was 64.

Hard to believe, since at one point in my life I seriously doubted I would live past 30.

Even harder to believe that only two siblings (I have six), one of my kids (I have three) and none of my grandkids (I have two adult ones) wished me a Happy Birthday, although I received more than 25 wishes from friends scattered across the globe.

But I have lived past 30...and 40...and 50 and 60, but it makes me pensive. It makes me think about the people I have loved in my life, the people I would have given my life to shelter and protect...and it makes me wonder: if I knew this would be the outcome, if I knew this would be the result, would I have done it? Would I have given up as much, worked as hard, sacrificed as much, willingly subjected myself to the many heartaches that came with my life, if I knew that at 64, I would essentially be forgotten, written off, ignored?

I probably would have, because that is what you do when you love someone. Even if I knew what was in store, I probably would not have let myself believe it and continued down the same road, given up the same things, repeatedly offered my heart and my trust and my faith...because that it what you do when you love.

But McCartney asked a very prophetic question and in the case of my family the answer, obviously, is mostly "no."