Longevity

I always thought I’d still be around at this age. One granddad lived to 92, an aunt to 94, and a grandmother to 103.

Both my folks made it into their mid-80s, so I carried an expectation of longevity.

But I didn’t know how I’d feel about being this age.

I asked my sister, just a year younger, how we got here. What happened between those carefree summers traipsing around our grandparents’ tiny town—and today’s reality of wrinkles, sore joints, and, yes, experience?

Experience in loss and doubt. Experience in joy, accomplishments, and failures.

I’ve lived it all—except my own death. I’ve been born, gone to school, moved towns, married, divorced, climbed highs, sunk to lows, felt anger and loss, laughed, been surprised, and yes, been bored.

Still, I wonder: how did I get to be so old? Where did the years go? I don’t wish them different—I’m simply astonished by their speed. I’ve lived every second of them, but in hindsight, the swiftness has been breathtaking.

There were hours that dragged on forever and days I wished would never end. And yet, here I stand at 83, marveling at how fast it all went.. Here’s to more years of marveling at how time washes over me, drenches me in experience, and leaves me wet, dried out—and still wondering.

Little 

Voice