I met a woman, born in 1899. Philomène. An extraordinary woman by the clarity of her ideas and judgment. What people marveled at above all was her great physical form. She lived alone at 92, went shopping, cooking, and kept her house clean.
As a young adult, at 20, she started reading and never stopped. I would have listened to her on all subjects. From the Bermuda Triangle, to the Second World War, Marie and Pierre Curie, Einstein, La Bolduc, Hitchcock, Picasso … This woman was a living encyclopedia.
Talking with her daughter, was as comfortable as talking to a 25 or 30 years old girlfriend. Sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter, shw was a free spirit. Already retired, she had traveled the world as a nurse working in Africa for twenty-five years and in the Côte Nord for about ten or fifteen. She painted.. she was an artist. She was considering buying a house in the Laurentians, and that is exactly what she did.
My father was the 11th child in a family of 12. He had good relationships with almost all his brothers and sisters. His two sisters closest to his age especially. One day when I was at his place, his two sisters and his brother-in-law came for a visit. Good mood, teasing. The innuendos and laughters were coming from everywhere. They had more than fifty years of memories together and it felt great.
Michael is over 70 years old. Young in spirit, he makes jokes, surprises me. He sees better than me, hears better than me, tastes and smells better than me. He’s younger than me.
I thought that age changed us, and we would die a little every day. Life does not flow in the same way for everyone. There are people who do not grow old or very little. There are people who rejuvenate. The attitude? The skill? Can we learn to stay young? Are you young? Do you want to become one? Can you get there alone, or do you want help?