This is a post that I wrote five years ago for my other blog, The Caregiver’s Corner. I’ve always identified with Sir Edmund Hillary, who grew up in New Zealand where my grandfather was born. I’m reprinting it here because it is quoted on my home page, and has special meaning to me, as I hope it will for you.
When Charlie turned 100 back in the 1970s, I went to interview him. There I was, twenty-something, with my whole life in front of me. I’m sure he got a kick out of our meeting. I wanted to know the secret of his longevity, and he was happy to oblige.
He greeted me at the door with a big smile and twinkly eyes peering out over his coke-bottle-thick glasses. His hair was snow white but remarkably thick, despite a bit of balding going on at the top. He wore grey slacks, a professorial cardigan sweater, and a crisp white dress shirt. On his feet were a comfortable pair of sneakers that somehow gave him a youthful appearance, and even though he used a cane to steady himself he did not lean on it much. Rather, he carried it along for security.