December: Not so many days ago I turned 28. Yes people: that is a mere 2 years away from 30 (in case you're math stupid like me). Somehow, 28 seems a lot older than 27. And yesterday, I felt a lot older.
I took my niece Taylor to the park where we played on the swings and bonded.
Me: How high do you want to go?
Tatter Bug: 5 minutes
Tatter Bug: I can see the moon really good from up here.
Me: What do you think is up there?
Tatter Bug: Great-Grandma.
Me: Do you think she is happy up there?
Tatter Bug: Yes, so happy.
Later on after a stretch of silence, she started to smile and then giggle. Then she said, "I can hear Jesus laughing." She told me how she wishes she could be with Jesus all the time and how much she loves Him and how special He is.
That girl. Every conversation we have either makes me laugh or ponder the meaning of life or both. So anyway - to the title. We already covered the Moon part. Now to arthritis. When it is cold (as it was on the day of our girl bonding park outing) or I do something repetitive, my finger (thank goodness it isn't fingerS) aches. My right pointer finger to be exact. Do you have any idea how important that finger is? By the time I reach 30 I just might have to get it amputated. It is official. I. Am. Old.
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