Do I Really Want to Live to 105?

I’ve always thought I would live to be 105, since longevity runs in my family. One grandmother lived to 103, and a grandfa- ther made it to 93. So, I don’t think 105 is out of the question.

However, the closer I get to 105, I do have to wonder if I have lost my mind to wish for such a thing.

That magical date looked terrific when I was 40 or 50 or even 60. My bones weren’t aching, my hearing was good, cataracts hadn’t clouded my eyesight, I could remember why I left one room and went to another, and I had bundles of energy.

Aging ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.

I know, it beats the alternative, but some would argue with that. I have older friends who might not be thrilled with the limi- tations they are experiencing but still live on.

Of course, if they departed, they would miss their friends… maybe. Many of their associates may have already left this plane for another dimension, so who’s to miss? I recall we came close to hiring pallbearers for my grandmother…she had outlived anyone and everyone who knew her, except family and we were all too old to carry a casket.

I do think that people who drift off to the other side in their sleep are lucky. Hopefully they haven’t had too many tragedies, illnesses, or dramas as they approached their last days, and can go floating off with a smile on their faces.

If not, they may be forced to have young friends, neighbors and relatives retell daily comings and goings of their lives. Do
I care what others are doing? Not certain that would be a great point of interest to me. I still want to talk about ME…but talk about a short subject. At 105, there may not be just a lot of con- versation about my activities. And I know no one who would be inspired to listen to me talk about whatever would come to mind.

Come to think about it, I don’t know anyone who is excited about listening to me now, and I’m not 105 yet!

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