“IT’S HELL GETTING OLD, ISN’T IT?”
That's what the man said to me. At first I didn't hear him as I stood waiting to use the cash machine, but I turned and he repeated it. He was older than I was, but was in good shape. "Yes, " I said. "How old are you?" he asked. I said "Eighty Two." "I'm ninety four" he said and walked into the bank. I'm at a point where I have gradually learned to accept the fact that I am…