I think I was in my early 70's when I discovered I could no longer hop, or jump -- even a little bit. I had my two granddaughters over for the afternoon, and we were in the garden enjoying a sunny day. They had sidewalk chalk and were making art that was as good as any I've seen. I wanted to play too. So I asked them if they knew how to hopscotch. They were little -- maybe 3 and 5 years old. "No. Show us!"
I thought Well of course I can! And I bent down and drew the traditional squares and numbered them: one, two, three, on top of each other, 4 and 5 side by side, 6 on its own, 7 and 8 side by side, and 9 on top. At least that's how I remembered it. Then I thought I would just show them how to hop on one foot in each single square, both feet on the double, and turn and come back. But I simply could not do it. I tried, but realized it was no longer possible for 70 year old me to hop or jump. Not at all. The girls looked at me, waiting patiently for something to happen. I was waiting too, to see if the ability would magically return. It didn't.
So I explained what to do and of course they were brilliant, right off the bat. Off they went. I found a garden chair.
Thinking back on that now, I realize I'm faced with the same situation again. Only this time it is much more serious. I used to be able to get up and go to a protest march and not think about where I would stand, or sit, or how I would park and walk. Since the hopscotch incident I have thought about these details a lot. You don't expect age to catch up with you in quite that way. At least I didn't.
But my young granddaughters, now 19 and 17, picked themselves up and went and marched on President's Day. They made signs, they chanted, they made me proud. And they were energized to do something, to speak up, to march against the destruction and chaos decimating our democracy. About the rights to their own bodies that have been denied so many by this cruel notmyPresident. The older one voted for the first time in the Presidential election, and the results devastated her. She was gut punched, like all of us. 
I know that it is critical for all of us, no matter our abilities, to keep doing the things we can do; write letters, postcards, find out about demonstrations and spread the word, donate to causes that will take our democracy back, restore kindness, and make America kind and rational again. How about you?
