fountain of youth

"Nothing about your mom says 86." 

That's M's assessment of my mother, who will be 87 next month. 

• My mom walks three miles almost every day, rain or shine.

• She drove by herself last year to Alexander's graduation at Cornell, almost 400 miles away.

• She still regularly beats me at gin, and can remember every card played, up to two games back.

• She gardens.

• She is still perfecting her bridge game.

• She uses an ipad (no iPhone yet, but we're still bugging her to get one).

• She plays regular games of mahjong and canasta.

• She is an avid reader, and participates in a book club.

• She has friends of all ages, and is really quite popular.

Today we go to the beach. It's a perfect day, yet again. Sunny. Warm. Low tide. And a beautiful breeze. 

It's close to four. "I think I've had enough sun for today; I'm going back to the house," I say.

"I'll meet you there later; I'm playing bocce at four."

I don't even know what bocce is.

But my mom does.   She's the oldest among her fellow bocce players, but you'd never know it. Her spirit and looks belie her age.

June, Mary Beth, Dorothy, Phyllis

I hope I age as beautifully and as gracefully as my mom.