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I have a neighbor. She’s 74 years old. Every morning she steps out onto the balcony in a silk robe, drinks coffee, and smokes a thin cigarette. I used to quietly hate her the noise, the smell, the music at 7 a.m.

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I have a neighbor. She’s 74 years old. Every morning she steps out onto the balcony in a silk robe, drinks coffee, and smokes a thin cigarette. I used to quietly hate her the noise, the smell, the music at 7 a.m.

She took a drag of her cigarette and said, “Only that I waited too long for permission to live.” Since then, when I hear her music at 7 a.m. I smile. And I make myself some coffee too. Girls, be like my neighbor. Don’t wait for permission.

Just because. Because she had always wanted to. That the silk robe was a gift from an Italian man named Marco. That with him she had the best summer of her life. That she came back because of her grandchildren. I asked, “Do you regret anything?”