In a few weeks Evelyn Goldschmidt will be celebrating her 95^th birthday.  If she has come to be a bit dependent on others, what can an independent minded great grandmother do about that? 
If she has come to have a little diffi-culty once in a while with her remember-ing, what would you expect from almost a century of living?
There is a wrinkled softness in her arthritic hands that tells more stories about knitting and crocheting than about milk-ing cows.  There is a resolution in her voice that carries more weight than a pail of water from the old windmill.  There is a moistness in her eyes that belies more than unspoken memories. 
There is great dignity in being old.  There is immense value in weathering trying times.  There is life in an aging body, and I thank you, Evelyn, for passing some of  it onto me and those who read the Gazette.  Thank you for remembering.