For much of the latter part of his life, my dad was convinced that he would not live past 72 because both his parents and his older sister died at that age.

But he actually ended up living considerably longer than that despite suffering from COPD.

By the time his passing came at the age of almost 79, he was ready to go. He was very ill, very very tired, and just couldn’t do it anymore.

But he ended up surprising himself anyway at being the longest living member of the family of his generation and the generation before — after spending so long presuming he had a particular expiration date.

I don’t know what I’m trying to say, really, except that enjoying life day by day is maybe the best that any of us can do.