When I was a kid, someone age 67 (as I am now) was o-l-d. Old as dirt. Over the hill. One foot in the grave.
Now I’m amazed at how many people I personally know (or know of, as in friends’ parents) who are 90+. For starters, my own mother is 91, healthy, lives on her own with some outside help. I lost a friend a few years ago who was in his 90’s–I took his two cats when he moved into a nursing home. He has since died. The mother of one girlfriend is 94, another’s mom is 96. The former lives in her own house and a nephew lives with her. The latter is in an assisted living facility and does suffer from dementia.
There was a well-known fellow in my city who died last year at the age of 91. He was still active in the community, as he had been his whole life, and in fact, carried around a folder labeled “future projects.”
Tell us about the oldsters in your life.