My grandmother Grace celebrates 99 years today. She was born in 1914. Think about that for a minute. The first airline flight was scheduled. The Panama Canal opened. Franz Ferdinand was assassinated, spurring a chain of events leading to the First World War. No computers. Car travel was rare. Communication was by letter.

My grandmother Grace is an amazing woman. We have grown close over the years and I have tried to tap into her wisdom. What must it be like to be 99? To have seen so much? Two wars? The advent of the Internet? What must it be like to be at the end of your life? Do you still have hope? Do you still wake up everyday with a small desire that something good will happen? Is there fear?

I have asked all these questions of my dear grandmother. I got some answers, some were left unanswered as she told me she needed to think about it. I have also asked her to write down her memories for me in a notebook. It is somewhere in her possession. I hope it finds its way to me. I am wishing I were with her today. We talked this morning. She was off to her exercise class. (She recently told me she started using the treadmill to walk and soon she will be running). This is the thing with her: she is still more active than most. She still has a list of places she has not yet visited, despite the fact that she has traveled the world. She still exercises and walks everywhere she can. She plays games at her retirement home and greets everyone she sees. She inspires me and reminds me that there is always hope and beauty and a reason to laugh. She shows me how to be grateful. Happy Birthday and I love you.