'i am finding this aging thing to be no fun at all,' my nonagenarian grandmother said to me, after telling me about her various maladies and doctor's visits. 'i'm ready for the good lord to take me.' this has been her constant refrain the past few years.
but my sisters and i had recently visited her and were in awe of the speed with which she raced down the hall from her apartment to the dining room. we thought she needed some racing stripes on her walker, or at least a horn to warn the slower ones she was passing. we found ourselves scurrying to keep up. my sister told her that the reason the good lord wasn't taking her was that he just couldn't catch her.