We sat listening to a live band in the Oceanside lounge. They were a talented little group who could sing anything from Foreigner to Patsy Cline without skipping a beat. Couples were dancing, while others just sat there tapping there foot. Me? Well, I was listening, people watching and pouting about the F-birthday that ends with a zero coming up. Yeah, yeah, yeah, why whine about it when you're spending Valentines day and your birthday on a cruise, but its my birthday and I'll cry (or pout) if I want to. I was watching the keyboard player just as he looked over to the female vocalist and mouthed "Saturday Night Fever" to which she nodded and turned to the guitarists and drummer to pass on the information. They
transitioned into the disco beat of Saturday night fever and more people poured onto the dance floor. One woman immediately caught my attention. She had abandoned her walker and was shaking her groove thang on the dance floor. Her smile was the size of Texas, her lipstick perfectly in place as was her white hair that matched the white blouse she was wearing. She wore stylish, yet comfortable looking rubber soled shoes. Women like myself wished our shoes felt as comfortable as hers looked, but height and comfort don't always go hand in hand, which was probably why she was on the dance floor and I was sitting on the side watching the action take place. She wasn't just up there bouncing her shoulders up and down with the beat, she was movin, groovin and kickin it pretty high. She hung with the best of them until the last beat and when the music ended she exited the dance floor to a round of applause. I leaned over to my husband and whisperer/shouted like you do in a club...."I wanna be just like her when I grow up!" The next morning I was standing in the omelet line when who strolled up beside me hanging onto her walker, but the Dancing Queen herself. I just couldn't keep it to myself as I began to gush with admiration for her dancing and general attitude. I'm sorry, I know it may have been rude but I just had to ask the burning question....."How old are you?" With a great big grin she replied...."89!" Wow! "I wanna be just like you when I grow up!" I went back to my table and told the gang about meeting my new hero. The next day I ran into her again, and warned her that she would be my #1 vacation blog when I got home. As we talked, her Grand daughter joined the conversation. She had video taped the "Dancing Queen" and emailed it to Sara's son with a note that said... "I was going to try to keep a handle on her, but as you can see, things have already gotten out of control." I asked Sara what her secret to loving life was... She said... "Clean living and finding something every day to be thankful for." What? No moaning about your aches and pains???? No pouting about number of candles on your birthday cake??? Words of wisdom if ever I heard them. Her grand daughter told me that when she turned 80 she decided she wanted to learn to play the harmonica. She bought a harmonica and taught herself to play. Now she is called on frequently to play for events where she lives. Wow!! As I took down her email address, her grand daughter said... "Oh, you can find her on Facebook too!" That didn't surprise me in the least... I can truly say I found inspirational magic on the high seas. Sara Mathis, you just keep right on rockin because I've never seen anyone do it quite as well as you! You taught me the truth that you are only as old as you feel and as carefree as you care to act. I've decided this growing older and wiser thing I've dreaded for so long, may be more fun than I thought and you my new friend are the perfect example. Thank you for the inspiration you gave me and I'm sure the inspiration you have been to all those you've come in contact with throughout your 89 years on this earth. We should all be so lucky to have someone like you to inspire us to move on with life with our heads held high and dancin shoes on.
P.S. Miss Sara responded to my blog with the following.
"I enjoyed my trip .my son ask where I was going next. I told him I spent my next cruise at the dentist for a crown on the tooth I broke"
Yes, as a matter of fact there are worst things than having a F-Birthday that ends in a zero. As bad as I dreaded it, it was as good as it could possibly be. A)I was on a cruise with the best people on earth B)The name of our ship WASN'T the Triumph C)I was surrounded not only by beautiful people, but also beautiful fish as I snorkeled the day away in paradise. When the alarm went off this morning the stark reality hit that I was home. Three meals were all I could hope
for and all three would have to be provided by myself. I had no hopes of a magical fairy coming in and cleaning my house every time I left to run out for something and last but certainly not least.... I had to face the music at work. Deep, Deep, sigh. The plan was maybe since I wasn't here, they would think I had enough celebration and they would ignore the dreaded F-Thing, 
and as I drove into the parking lot everything looked mild, calm, no flapping banners waving in the wind announcing my oldness. I slipped my key into the door and opened it ever so slightly. No black balloons, just twirly little F-word signs hanging above my desk. On my keyboard lay a caution cone also with the F-word and something about senior moments. A co-worker knowing my love of all thing Dr. Seuss had gotten me a little nic-knack for my desk and a Dr. Seuss card. The conference room directly behind my office was tastefully 
decorated (obviously by someone who had suffered the same F-birthday themselves)with white zebra print balloons and a festive F-word centerpiece. No cake defiled by black icing graced the table, just beautifully decorated cupcakes that were almost (almost not quite) too good to eat. Our Monday meeting was sweet, no over the hill jokes and some super cute cards. It really was the sweetest birthday I've ever had and one I will look back on with fond memories.... As long as my memory holds. So yes, there certainly are worse things 
