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I’m Not Dying Until 2077, and Here’s Why
My goal is to live until I’m 121 years old.
Most of the women on Mom’s side of the family died young. Grandma passed away at 62. Mom’s sister was 47. Most of my aunts were in their 50’s and 60’s when they died. When Mom made it to 63, I knew the curse was over.
Mom passed away when she was 84 years old from Covid. Her death was a double-edged sword. She was in an assisted living facility for three years due to Alzheimer’s disease. Physically, she could have run a marathon. Mentally, her memory was getting worse every time we spoke on the phone. Her doctors couldn’t say how long she would live with Alzheimer’s. It could have been years. Maybe Covid was a blessing so she didn’t have to suffer from the decline of what Alzheimer’s disease would do to her.
Last year, I received a new health insurance card a few days after my birthday. I usually throw the cards in my wallet without reading them. I glanced at the new card and noticed the expiration date. It expires in 2076. That would make me 120 years old. The insurance company will have to send me a new card!
Now I have a goal.
Goals are a good thing. I became lazy when I retired three years ago. My doctor said it usually took between six months to a year for people to adjust to…
