I have an old friend (old as in I’ve known him for forty-four years, and old as in he turned one hundred six weeks ago). We met in 1978 and have been close since, though he is thirty years my senior.

When he was my current age (70), he was as vigorous and active as I am now. Seeing him over the last ten years or so, though, has been like watching a helium-filled balloon slowly deflate and descend… smaller and smaller, lower and lower, its soft shape closing in as to a vacuum. Every intermittent visit is a reality check.

If I were wise, I’d be anticipating my own earth-fall, begin living closer to the ground. But for now, I’m going to float as high as I can. When the universe pulls me down, I’ll deal with it.

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