Recently, I invited a lovely 94-year-old woman to join me on a vacation to the beautiful storm-battered coast of Washington State’s Olympic Peninsula.
Ninety-four years is a very long time to live — few people make it that far. I’d like to.
My grandmother died at the impressive age of 102 and my aunt passed away a few weeks after her 100th birthday. The elegant lady who joined me on this excursion (let’s call her “Ann”) is the third-oldest person I’ve spent quality time with.
What is it like to be very old, I’ve always wondered. If my grandmother's and aunt’s lifespans are an indication, it’s likely I’ll be very old one day too — and that makes me curious about my future.