Age Matters Not

My great-grandma is a machine. She's a 93 years old widow whose husband died just a few years ago, is the matriarch of what seems like a family clan, lives alone self-sufficiently, and has the deepest love, respect, and admiration of everyone she knows. For good reasons, too; the woman's been through, seen, and heard everything (and remarkably still remembers most of it, except for some short-term things).
For her 90th birthday, our family put together a surprise party for her at the fire station (how they got her there without her realizing is beyond me, the place is used for get-togethers more than it is for anything else). A lot of her old friends came from out of state, people she probably hadn't seen in ages. The excitement must've been to much for her, because she had a heart attack and was lying on the floor surrounded by people when my family arrived. With Grandpa Great's death not too far in the past, everyone was more tense and worried than they probably normally would've.


I think that the day she dies, our family goes with her. Grandpa was like everyone's father, in a sense, just like Grandma's everyone's mother. Half the people in our family probably only care about being with the family because of her. Don't even want to think about what could happen.


But on with the story. She was taken to the hospital, everyone followed, and waited tensely until anyone was allowed to go see her. She had hardly been in the hospital for two or three hours, and when I saw her, she was completely back to normal, complaining about how she hated hospitals and how she just wanted to go back and talk to her friends over a meal.


Talk about a powerhouse.


Moral of the story: no matter how old you are, you can still keep going strong, and you can still kick it.