I really never gave it much thought: Growing old, that is. Figured I didn’t have to. The way I saw it, I only had two options: Grow older or die.
If I died – well, I wouldn’t be worrying about getting older, now would I? And the longer I lived, the more obvious it became that I would eventually become old.
Since I didn’t die – a fact The Wife is very happy about – I’m faced with a conundrum: Why then are some people happy no matter how old they get and others are just downright miserable? What magic makes people happy and keeps them vibrant? Read More»