Originally written March 2025
The last few years have made me realise just how fragile life is.
During the COVID outbreaks, I lost family and friends one after another. The passing of my best friend was especially difficult. He was only three years older than me—active, accomplished, with a bright future ahead of him, three beautiful children and a wife he dearly adored.
Then, just when I thought that was hard enough, 18 months later my brother lost his eight-year-old son, my nephew, in raging floodwaters.
That was when something really shifted in the way I looked at ageing.
No matter how young we are, how healthy we are, how carefully we look after ourselves—or even whether we have good health insurance—none of it guarantees that we will live a long life.
Waking up every morning is already a blessing.
Growing older is not something everyone gets the chance to do.
So when I notice another grey hair, another wrinkle, or another year added to my age, I try to remember that ageing is not simply something happening to me.
It is something I have been fortunate enough to experience.
Old age is a privilege of the few.
And I am very privileged indeed.
Stories Along the Way 