it's in the genes

I don't often give much thought to age - mine or others. I'm terrible at guessing, too, so please don't ask me to hunch the number of times you've experienced a trip around the sun. I'll be way off and you won't talk to me for weeks. Or months.

I've got this relative, see, who is old. Like really old. She's a great aunt (my dad's father's sister, I think) who lives in Nova Scotia.

In the mail today - among the holiday cards, credit card bills and extended chances to renew useless magazines for up to 60% off - I received a letter from my mom. I love hearing from my mom. We still write letters. Okay, so my parents don't have email. Regardless, mom and I wrote each other letters even when they did have a computer. But letters from my mom aren't the point. What came in the letter was a photo of my dad and his aunt, Chantal, taken this past fall.

Chantal will be 109 years old as of December 31 2009.

The last time I saw her was in 1996, which also was my last visit to Nova Scotia. Aunt Chantal looks smaller, but her face is the same - maybe a few more wrinkles.

In the photo Aunt Chantal is turned toward the camera, but she's looking at my dad out of the corner of her eye. She doesn't talk much anymore; she just answers "oui" when asked questions. And she doesn't move around without help.

The look on her face in this photo would make me believe that it's all an act. She's grinning and biting her finger like she's holding back a big secret. I like to think she has her share of secrets after this many years.

I've had many relatives pass on at an early age, and then there's Aunt Chantal who was born at the turn of the century. Whether it's hereditary, good living, karma or someone spinning a big roulette wheel somewhere doesn't really matter to me.

I want to look like Aunt Chantal does, leaning in and biting her finger to hold back a big secret with a cat-that-ate-the-canary look on my face. At any age.


~ Jeannette
(36 revolutions around the sun, and loving every one of them)