Life Begins at 90

My grandad turned 90 this week. He is still active, still loves life and is on the whole happy. We joked today that if he was a super-hero, his special power would be pottering. He loves to potter. His garden shed is an alladin's cave of items he has collected over the last 60 years. He is a war veteran, and was involved in the D-Day landings. By sheer luck he survived the war, and it's cruel mental torture, and settled to a simple life as a driver. He married a beautiful woman when she was 19, and they have had 66 years of happily married life. He is a simple man, but a deeply thoughtful and loving man. He still loves life, and although he is no longer able to do some of things he has always enjoyed, still lives everyday to the full.

He is one twins, not identical, most certainly not in character. His twin brother also celebrated his 90th birthday, with all of us, but he is a shell. He gave up on life many years ago, and just exists. He has not enjoyed the best of health, losing an eye, and a leg to illness. He lives in a residential home, and sits most days in his chair. He has no interests.

However, both brothers are devoted to each other, and I know that when one goes, the other will be completely broken.

Interestingly, his nephew made a simple, and quite moving speech in tribute to both men. In it he said how their life was so much simpler, so much slower than our pressurised lives today. We are so charged with the need to achieve and accumulate that we have forgotten simple pleasures. My grandfather is testament to the need to just live the life that suits him, and to be satisfied with his lot. That makes him a very lucky man.

My grandfather is one of the kindest men I'll ever know, and I love him dearly. I was so proud to see him today, surrounded by his family, his 2 daughters, and the miriad of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. He is humble, but, oh so lucky, and so rich in life experience. I love him.