In November I will be 90. This is a busy time for me. This summer and fall have been a time of funerals. Eight in the past four months. They all follow the same pattern, An M.C., religious or not, calls speakers to the podium -- spouse, children, grandchildren, a few friends. I check the crowd, speculate on how mine will compare.
It is well known that Albert Einstein searched for a unified theory that would explain everything. He never found it. What is not known is that I too have been searching for a unified theory. Not in physics, of course. I almost flunked that at Andover. No, a unified theory that would explain our lives.
Eighty-nine is not an age you would choose. Too close to the precipice. Yet, on this sunny day in June, I am grateful for the pleasures that lie before me. I have nothing scheduled today. No lunch date, no meetings, no doctors. Iris is playing bridge; I am alone; job and young children belong to bygone times.