I have photos of three of my great grandmothers, two of whom made it to their late 70s, and of both my grandmothers; one of them lived to well past the age I became today. Since I’ve often mentioned that I was born in 1934, during the Great Depression and grew up during its aftermath, you shouldn’t have any problem figuring out that, today, I turned 78. In my head and heart, I’m still about 17. Funny, isn’t it, how our minds and our bodies grow old at different rates of speed?
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