When my father turned 80, he and two friends went out for a celebratory breakfast. Both his friends had turned 80 earlier in the same month; my father was the youngest of the three.

At one point my father said, You know, we've about got it made. They say very few people die when they're 80.


My father died when he was 93. Strangely enough, each of the three men died in the order of their births.

Speaking of a sense of humor, that is the one place where my mother and father were well matched. My father loved to make people laugh and my mother loved funny things.

Another cup, Jerry? Can I get someone else a cup while I'm up?