“Great-grandma,” the girl asked with wide eyes, “what’s it like to be old?”

Her great-grandmother simply smiled and asked, “what’s it like to be young?”

The girl put her hands on her hips. “Great-grandma, I am 10 years old. Ten. I am not a child anymore. Mom lets me stay up an hour later at night and I can walk to school all by myself.”

“No, you are not,” her great-grandma replied and that was the end of the question.

Years later…

“Grandma,” the young woman asked with searching eyes, “what’s it like to be old?”

Her grandma simply smiled and asked, “what’s it like to be young?”

The woman nodded, “I’m not so young anymore. I just turned 30 and all my friends seem to know what they are doing but I’m still trying to figure it all out.”

“You still have time to figure it out,” her grandma replied and that was the end of the question.

Years later…

“Mom,” the woman asked with a touch of sorrow in her eyes, “what’s it like to grow old?”

Her mom simply smiled and asked, “what’s it like to be young?”

“Mom,” she said slowly, “I’m definitely not so young anymore. I just turned 50. My body and my mind keep reminding me I have never been this old before.”

“Tell your body and your mind you will stay as young as you feel,” her mom replied and that was the end of the question.

Years later…

“Great-grandma, what’s it like to be old?”

The question caught her off guard. It was a familiar question she had asked several times without an answer. And now, here was her chance to answer her great-granddaughter the way she wanted to be answered.

As she thought of her reply, seventy years worth of memories flashed quickly in her mind. She thought of emotions and feelings she had felt. Love. Anger. Hurt. Betrayal. Joy. Peace. Happiness. Worry. Contentment. She thought of all the people and experiences that produced such feelings. Family. Friends. Enemies. Coworkers. While she could not picture every single memory she could look back and see the roller coaster her life had taken. Twists, turns, dips, flips. It had been a wild ride and it was unique to her. Somehow she didn’t feel like she should be 70. That was impossible. Every memory she could recall felt like it had just happened. At the same time, each memory seemed so far away. Her life was like a dream, something she couldn’t hold or touch but desperately tried to cling to.

And now she finally understood the answers she had been given to her question. It couldn’t be answered it had to be lived. She could only reply one way.

She smiled and asked, “what’s it like to be young?”