Several weeks ago, I found a box of old photos and greeting cards containing things my mom had saved for me. I wrote about it in my Found: A Hope Chest story.

There is still a lot of that kid in me – but now with wrinkles, less hair, and fading memory.

Most of my dreams as a sixteen-year-old revolved around finding love and happiness – because I had a serious fixation on girls then.

It was not until I reached my sixteenth birthday that one of my dreams came true, and I got my beginner’s driver’s license.

They were known as a 90-day permit – but you had to have someone with a license accompany you when driving until you got your permanent driver’s license.

I spent my first summer away from home and family in Oshawa, Ontario.

I hitch-hiked to Vittoria, Ontario, with my friend Dude (whose real name is Terry Hill). I wrote about that summer in my The Summer of ’66 story.

That summer was pivotal for how I thought and behaved – because almost everyone I hung around with then was older and more mature than me.

That was fifty-six years ago!

A lot has happened during that period – and I have tried to remember everything by writing short stories about my experiences before they fade from my memory.

Today is my 72nd birthday, but I still feel like that sixteen-year-old and will spend it quietly with my dog, Holly Golightly.

Although I was supposed to have another CT scan this afternoon at Peace Arch Hospital – they called me yesterday to re-schedule the procedure for tomorrow (Sunday).

When I finished my cancer treatments in November 2009, I hoped to make it to my 60th birthday, even though I was only given a 40% chance of surviving.

I hoped to make it to my 65th birthday when I turned sixty.

When I turned sixty-five, I hoped to make it to my 70th birthday.

When I reached my 70th birthday, I stopped hoping for future birthdays because I had survived longer than the 60% of the patients with stage 3 throat cancer – who died.

I want to thank everyone who prayed for me.

I never prayed for myself because that would be too selfish.

So, thank those who prayed for me from the bottom of my heart.

If you know someone facing an uphill battle with cancer – tell them about my 40% survival story. I would find it too difficult to put myself in the 60% group – that would be giving up.

And like I have often said:

Living with cancer is not a death sentence, but giving up on living is!

~ Danny St. Andrews

Dedicated to Little Danny

I hope my stories are a gift to your head and heart.

Hugs,

Danny

Today’s tune from Danny’s library (purchased):

It’s another tequila sunrise
Starin’ slowly ‘cross the sky,
They said goodbye

He was just a hired hand
Working on a dream, he planned to try
The days go by

Every night when the sun goes down
Just another lonely boy in town
And she’s out running ’round

She wasn’t just another woman
And I couldn’t keep from comin’ on
It’s been so long

Oh, and it’s a hollow feelin’
When it comes down to dealin’ friends
It never ends

Take another shot of courage
Wonder why the right words never come
You just get numb

It’s another tequila sunrise,
This old world still looks the same,
Another frame

Songwriters: Don Henley, Glenn Lewis Frey

Here’s a link to songs Danny is listening to now: Drowning in a Tub Full of Tunes