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I was rummaging around today in my storage room, and ended up cleaning out a drawer in my old pink filing cabinet. I stumbled on this journal entry from July 14, 1998, and was struck by how appropriate it would be for today.

The prompt for the day’s journaling was: If someone followed me around this last weekend, what comment would he/she make about my “real” life?

“Wow! You sure pack a lot of living into the time allotted to you! You’re so lucky to be part of a loving family, to come from such a caring bunch. You’re lucky, too, that your family is so healthy and long-lived…you, too, can look forward to turning 84 someday. It’s too bad the family “pool” didn’t hit the lottery, though — you could have really spread it around!”

The 84-year old I was writing about was my Great-Aunt Evelena, whose birthday we had celebrated a few days before. And tomorrow we will celebrate the 87th birthday of her niece, my precious Aunt Betty, once again surrounded by that same loving family, along with my two little granddaughters — a generation that wasn’t around back when that journal entry was written.

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