I want to be an eternal optimist.

I've never wished to be somebody else. I'm just satisfied to be me. And I have no wish to be younger. I'm 75. And I accept that. It's nice to have lasted this long. I didn't expect to make it this far. Because my ancestors often didn't make it close to being around for three-quarters of a century. My father didn't make it past 38. Of course, he chose suicide. But his brother died in his 50s, after three heart attacks. And my maternal grandmother died at 27. Of a mysterious bone disease. And my maternal grandfather died at 38, of pneumonia. I had a younger brother. But he died of an accident. Though he was in poor health. My mother lived to 88. And might have survived longer if she wasn't such a worry wart. I'm banking on the possibility that I inherited more of my mother's genes than my father's. I would just as soon live forever. And maybe I will. That is, if there's an afterlife. Then I can be an eternal optimist. --Jim Broede