Archive
10/06/08 - (2)
Inspired
This Monday noon, I met, for lunch, with a beloved friend of mine Born in that far-off time of 1915.
He reminisced about his early days as an ophthalmologist, During World War II, When he shuffled between the army and academia,
Eventually settling, in the fifties, Into a teaching position at a local university, As well as his own private practice.
While we ate, I pressed him to tell me more, About his wife, family, his gift for light verse, His professional accolades, the rigors of old age.
In an utterly engaging way, he was vital — Alert, passionate, curious, enthusiastic, modest, Brimming with gentle humor, curiosity.
At ninety-three, twenty-six years my senior, This man is younger than any of my contemporaries. I should only live to be so young.
10/06/08 - (2)
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