I often think about my family and how our lives have been shaped by both love and loss. My dad died from cancer when he was just fifty-three. His life had been tough, and after suffering a stroke during surgery, he spent his final years in a wheelchair. My sister passed away at fifty-nine from breast cancer. My mom, too, lost her battle with breast cancer at age seventy-seven after it had spread to other organs.
All three of them were smokers and had become more sedentary toward the end of their lives. After my dad died in 1989, I made the decision to quit smoking on January 1, 1991. I was thirty-five years old at the time. That choice, among others, has shaped the way I try to live now—with intention, care, and gratitude.
My goal is not just to live longer, but to live well. I want to make it to a ripe old age with my mind sharp and my body strong. Thankfully, I have relatives who lived into their mid-to-late nineties, so I know longevity is possible. I try to take care of myself—not out of fear, but out of respect for the time I've been given.
These days, I focus on what I can control: eating well MOST of the time (including limiting my alcohol intake), staying active, keeping my mind engaged, and surrounding myself with people I love. I don’t take any of it for granted.
Each birthday reminds me that life is a gift—unpredictable, sometimes heartbreaking, but also beautiful beyond words.
One day at a time.
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