“I’m eighty-nine,” said the old man.
“Wow, you look very good,” said the stranger.
“Thank you. I don’t feel eighty-nine. The age just sort of caught up to me.”
“Do you have any regrets?”
“Well, sure,” the old man hesitated. “There was a girl. I didn’t marry her. I was too slow. I would’ve had grandchildren and cousins and children running around. I don’t have any descendants.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Anyway, you seem to have kept your wits about you,” said the stranger.
“Well, I try to stay sharp,” the old man said. “I do crosswords, and talk to friends, write the occasional letter.”
“Grandpa, there you are.” A child reached for the old man’s hand. “We’ve been looking all over for you.”