As I am closing in on 70, I often think, "how on earth did I get to be this old, so quickly?". Decades pass, just like years used to. I now have a better understanding and an appreciation for "how good some people are for their age". It seems once a senior starts to crowd 80, you will hear them say, "Well, I'm almost 80 or 85 or 90", whatever the number may be. They like people to know their age, it is like a disclaimer for what they have just said or done. A common question is, "how old do you think I am?". Seniors should be proud of their age, only 2.3% of Canada's population is 85 years or older. I have been blessed to have several 90-year-olds in my life. I come from a long line of longevity. My grandmas were 96 and 98 when they passed away. Many of their children lived well into their 90s. Mom turned 90 last September and it suits her very nicely. Of course, during my very long career, many inspirational 90-year-olds have crossed ...
I believe the time that we question ourselves on "how many stories do I not know" is when you are sitting at a funeral. They are speaking lovingly about the deceased, and you are trying to figure out, "how did I not know that?". I just love eulogies. It seems it is the one and only time that a person's life is shared in such detail. I come away from every funeral I attend saying, "I didn't know that". Many times, it is because they are acquaintances and of course you don't know everything about them. But there are times when I'm at a family funeral and I think, where have I been? Did I grow up in another family? How did I not know that? I start to wonder "how many stories do I not know?". I am always impressed with people who are so good at remembering details. They can repeat a story word for word. I remember Dad saying, "I don't want to repeat a story because I don't remember all of it and I would get it wrong...