I always knew there would come a day when I had to let things go. When I wouldn't be able to do the things I always did. When I'd tucker out by lunch time, have to be careful about food choices, need to be near a bathroom at all times.

A time when I couldn't think on my feet, couldn't come up with the right word, wasn't sure what people were talking about, couldn't keep up. A day when people would have to make special concessions for me.

A time when I wouldn't go places at night, travel very far from home, or volunteer to do anything more than twenty minutes in the future.

I knew the day would come, but funny thing: I thought when the day came, I'd be 85 and not 60.