One Foot in the Grave

My three-and-three-quarters-year-old daughter has been asking a lot of age-related questions ever since her sister was born, a few weeks ago now. Today she said to me, “Daddy, when will you be seventy?” So I did the calculation in my head and came up with twenty-eight years. Why should that simple bit of math so horrify me?


  1. Shoot you are still more than a quarter of a century away.

    But it is a known fact that each year you live your perception of passing time gets shorter and shorter, so it is actually closer than it appears.


  2. Rufus McCain says

    I like it when you put it in terms of quarter-centuries. That and the bottle of 12-year Jameson’s we polished off at Summit IV over the weekend assuage the horror somewhat. Oh yeah, and faith in Christ who conquered death. “Dying you destroyed our death, rising you restored our life, Lord Jesus come in glory.”

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