My friend's aunt just died. She had PKD.
I foolishly asked her how old her aunt was. My friend replied, "Oh, Heather, she was OLD!"
"How old?" I pressed.
I don't think that's old. My father will be 74 this year. My mother is 66.
My friend insisted another reason her aunt died when she did was because she was a chain smoker and a heavy drinker.
"I don't know much about PKD, but I'm sure the smoking and drinking didn't help!"
Ok, she has a point.
I was talking about this with my BIL, lamenting the fact that I, too, might die as old as this woman, and he said, "Well, how long do you WANT to live, anyway?"
It is an interesting question, and one that took me off guard. Do I give a blanket answer, like 'hey, I want to live until I'm 80?' My work in hospitals and nursing facilities has taught me that there is 80, and well, there's 80. It's not necessarily a blessing to live that old.
So this is how long I want to live. I want to live long enough to see my children graduate from highschool, and hopefully college. I want to see them get married, and nuzzle my grandchildren the way my mother nuzzles hers. I want to live long enough to know that my family will be strong and stable if I ever have to leave them.
And I want to live long enough to go to Hawaii.
Better get on that last one, huh?