This morning, I got up before the alarm, padded to the bathroom and flipped on the light. It rained all night. The air was still heavy with humidity. My hair was literally standing on end and knotted into a nest. I looked around for tiny, homeless birdies to house.

A few months ago, polishing my toenails became difficult. Washing my right foot in the shower now requires concentration and effort. Putting on socks has taken on an exciting suspense: can I apply the sock to the right foot without hopping across the living room and scattering snickering kitties? Do not kid yourself: you do not want to hear your cats laugh at you! Anyway, I looked at my toenails, previously a palate of wild color, and lamented how far away the seemed.

Tonight, I decided not to give an inch. It’s just a little thing, red is, but color at the ends of my toes provides proof that I can do what I decide I will, and I will prove it again every week.