Tomorrow we’re heading to Boston to celebrate the 100th birthday of my grandmother. One hundred years old. Amazing. When she was bringing up her kids, the ice man would bring a two-hundred pound block up four floors on his back. She’s seen so much.
She’s an incredible woman. Her body is failing her, but her mind is still sharp as a tack. It’s going to be a fun trip.
100 is truly amazing. My family has a good long-life gene, and I’ve had many in my extended family make it to 90, but nobody has ever made it to 100. What is interesting is that several in my family made it to 90 and were healthy as horses, and we thought for sure they would make it to 100. But things really start to break down at that point.
Congratulations, Grandma. She deserves a big celebration. How many grandchildren and great-grandchildren has she racked up?