For two years in a row now, I have attended my boss' mother's birthday party. Normally, I'm not that inclined to do birthday parties unless there is a cute kid involved. But, for this one, I made an exception.
Mrs. G. is 106 years old as of last April 29. Yes, 106. And, that would be Mrs. G. downing a beer (okay, so it was N/A) on her special day.
I'm not sure I have fanciful desires to live that long. In fact, I am sure of it. There was a time I thought 50 to be old and everything after that just icing on the cake. Well, now at 34, with a husband significantly older than myself, 50 seems rather young.
I've watched my grandmothers age not to perfection, but far beyond it into some ugly realities. Those ugly realities usually involve a return to infantile self-centeredness or the vagaries of dementia.
So, I'm putting my order for longevity in--just to live long enough to see any offspring off to a healthy and productive adulthood and maybe, just maybe as a bonus, to see some grandchildren on the horizon. That's enough for me; no beer swilling at 106 is necessary, thank you very much.
I'm grateful that my parents and my husband (relatively the same age) are all in reasonable health. I pray we have many blessed years together down south on our Alabama adventure.
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