My husband and I attended a party to celebrate a longtime friend’s 80th birthday recently. We hadn’t seen many of the potential attendees for a decade – more or less – because we’d switched churches; such is the cycle of life.

I wasn’t feeling effervescent because of a recently pulled hamstring and protracted knee pain, but duty called. How many more birthdays can an 80-year-old have? Besides, we loved him and his dear wife, both cherished longtime friends.

So, I applied a lidocaine patch on the hamstring and gulped a couple of pain pills. I washed my hair and scrubbed my face, adding the potions and lotions and make-up that make my pale face visible.

I put on my best face in more ways than one.

The event was an open house, so we arrived an hour past the official start. Thus, we had to park a block from their home, causing my knees to grumble before we entered the front door. I donned my party attitude and entered, hanging onto my husband’s elbow for stability, We scanned the crowd gathered in the festively decorated backyard, easily found the celebrant and his sidekick, and gave birthday greetings and hugs. Then we went for drinks: water for me and wine for my husband and began making the party rounds. The air was festive and joyful, with the boost of SoCal late afternoon sunshine.

My brave smile carried me through the first moments, and the chair I quickly found so I could take the pressure off my knees carried me through many more.

BTW, I wasn’t the only one who eagerly sought a chair. It was an older crowd, after all. The taco bar was also open, so party guests were chowing down. Soon, the cavalcade began as people sought me out – eager to see me and swap details about our present lives. Everyone’s buoyant attitudes should have been infectious. But I couldn’t do it. All I could manage to reply to “What’s up with you?” was, “I’ve gotten older, but not better.” Their faces reflected dismay, empathy… and surprise.

Dour has never been my default mode.

It saddens me. I’m not who I used to be – the vibrant, brimming-with-energy person – the one they fondly recalled. The open-hearted listener with an optimistic outlook and zest for life had been replaced.

The worry and consternation of the past several years, punctuated by fear in the past several months, had squelched my spunky self.

P.S. After we returned home, my honey shared that I’d received numerous compliments on my hair and clothing, but I remember none of it – what a shame!

A bubble bath isn’t going to do it, peeps. Better health news will – pray for my appointment on Thursday.