In two days I hit birthday number 85.
I have arrived at “elderly.”
I love it.
A friend of mine–Dr. Bill Murfin–used to joke, “I’ll tell you how to live to be a hundred!” Pause for effect, then he would say, “Get to be 99, then be real careful.”
Both my parents lived to be nearly 96. Dad died in 2007 at 95 years and 7 months. Mom died in 2012 at 95 years and 11 months. So, I have a while to go.
It would be highly presumptuous for me to claim the right to tell anyone how to live to be my age or my parents’ ages. There are so many variables.
–When you take the surveys about longevity, it usually asks if you are smoking and drinking and using drugs. If you check ‘no’ to each of these, there’s still no guarantee. The survey will go on to ask if you are exercising so many minutes a week, walking, etc., if you are eating leafy green vegetables, that sort of thing.
You know and I’m going to state the obvious here: Just because you give all the right answers, there are no guarantees.
–Your genes have a lot to do with these things. Some people–I’m thinking of my wife of 52 years, Margaret Ann Henderson McKeever–inherit a mixed bunch of genes that almost guarantee the individual a lifetime of health problems. Not for any bad choices they made, but just because their bodies contained time bombs (for want of a better way of saying it) that they had no control over.