My best friend from high school's pops is dying.
Almost 80 years old. WWII vet, turned surgeon. Worked with the Olympic ski team. He worked at Stanford's world class hospital for many years.
Within the last few years, he's suffered some unfortunate circumstances. A skiing accident, brain tumor, back injury, slip-n-fall, diabetes, broken neck, kidney failure just to name a few. He's in bad shape now. The shallow breathing has begun, and my pal has just flown in from Boston to be with him.
I hope that when I'm his age, I will have had as many experiences, and as good a family as he.