My mom turns 92 today. I just called her from Chicago to wish her a Happy Birthday. She was out to lunch with my sisters and a cousin, celebrating.
She has outlived my dad and her older age companion, Hollis, all her siblings and in-laws. Mom had a lot of illnesses in her life, survived cancer, two strokes and a heart attack, and she is still pretty with it.
After nearly three months working in a hospital as part of a chaplaincy internship, I realize that life is really like a marathon, after all. And it's nearly impossible to predict who will make it the long distance.
Every "runner" starts out hoping for a long, good race. But some quit early. Some are forced to quit. And others, despite many odds, keep on running to the end.
My mom is a marathoner in this race of life. 92 years. Wow.