Josephine will be ninety-six in March. She is quick to remind me she will not be ninety-six until March and that, until then, I should say she's ninety-five. A few weeks ago I introduced her to a class on "Understanding Happiness" I was conducting. I told them proudly;" this is Josephine, my mother-in law. She's 95". Josephine participated energetically in our discussion. Later she excused herself to go to the Ladies Room. While she was gone, some in the class expressed wonder that her mind was so sharp. One member said "Why don't we ask her, when she comes back, how she's managed to still be so sharp at her age". When she got back to the class and they asked her the question, her reply was succinct: "I don't know, because I think I did all the wrong things."
After class, Josephine took my arm as we walked to the car. "I don't know why", she said, "You have to introduce me as your ninety-five year old mother-in-law. I want people to think I'm younger than that."
I like having Josephine around. She's got a lively mind. We joke and laugh a lot; she's young in spirit. I like her especially because she thinks I'm brilliant and should be a writer and be on stage, both of which I would like to do. How could I not admire such perspicacity?
Josephine is coming to the end of a wonderful two-month visit from her home in San Francisco. My wife, Claire, and I have tried every kind of persuasion and manipulation to get her to extend her visit for another month or two, but no deal; she doesn't want to overstay her welcome, and she has doctors appointments to go to, and she just wants to get back to her own place that she and her late husband built when they got married, sixty-six years ago.
We hate to see her go. We're going to miss her.
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