I visited an old woman the other day. She was the Great Aunt of a friend of mine. 101 years old and close to death. She drank half a cup of coffee while I was there. Held to her lips by her devoted son. Slipping in and out of consciousness. Calling out occasionally to her mother, long ago gone. She slept. Her eyelids fluttered open. She slept again. She had a quiet dignity about her. She has been alive a long time, perhaps too long.