For those of you who may be wondering what it is like to turn 86, well, it's nothing new. A heavier number, nothing more. I do think from time to time of Stan Musial and Yogi Berra, two of the greatest athletes of all time, both of whom lived into their 90s, but in wheelchairs at the end. It is infirmity that's scary, not dying. To become one of the old guys you see who can barely make it to the corner. The ones taking the short steps. And soon after that having to be rolled anywhere you want to get to. Prison with a capital P. No sign of any of that yet, I told myself this morning as I carried two cups of breakfast coffee up the stairs to our bedroom--didn't spill a drop. Breakfast in bed for the two of us. But the signs will presumably come, and I have to keep telling myself to stop looking for them.
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