Whenever the topic of age comes up and I state how old I am aloud, it always seems odd to me. "What? Me? No way!" In my head I am 22. It is pure science fiction to think otherwise. Yet I have been forced to deal with the fact that I will die. Absurd, yes, but I am becoming convinced it is a real possibility. I will die!

I have zero health issues, which stokes my delusion of immortality. I ski, play golf, and am light on my feet. But I made no effort to be healthy at this age. Quite the opposite. I drank, smoked, ate what I wanted, and h**ed all regimens. This is true since I was really 22.

Let me say this plainly: I am abundantly blessed. Why, is unknown. Is it because I never even think of acting my age? How does that avoid so many pitfalls of growing older and genetics? Cancer has taken everyone in my immediate family before 62: my sister at 47, mother at 56, older brother at 50, my dad at 61. And I am about to be 70, with no health issues. Luck?

I played hard most of my life, so going on 70 has me perplexed. Never expected to get pass 30. And every decade after that shocked me. Do I have a point to all this?

Not sure. Just feeling really lost right now. Not depressed or anything but, well, confused.