Attended visitation for an old friend, who died at age 70 in a nursing home of “an age-related illness,” his daughter in law said. Age-related: A term one lives with in later years.

At 70, I hear my doctor — who is in his 80s — often tell me that I’m in “pretty good shape, considering your age.”

I walk with a limp, not from age but from the metal in my body from a motorcycle accident nearly six years ago that left me with a right leg broken in multiple places, a face half-torn off and “MBT,” which stands for “Massive Brain Trauma.”

Doctors expected me to die in the emergency room.

When I made it to the next day, they predicted I would wake up with no memory and/or the “mind of a two-year-old.”  I would not recognize my wife of more than 30 years, they said.

When I did finally awake three weeks later, I asked for my wife.  The only thing I didn’t know was what had happened.  To this day, I have no memory of the motorcycle crash.

Probably just as well.

I have suffered some memory loss in the last five years.

Is it from the brain damage or my age? “Probably both,” says my doctor.

Oh well.

My knees hurt (rheumatoid arthritis, I’m told.)

Have to watch what I eat.

Since I quit drinking 24 years, one month and 19 days ago, use of alcohol is not a problem.

I quit smoking more than 50 years ago.

I do drink a lot of coffee.  Seems I need caffeine to stay awake.

I still ride a motorcycle and spend an hour each morning in a gym.

“What,” my doctor asked, “is your current goal?”

“To reach 71,” I replied.