My Aunt Allie

I called my aunt Allie yesterday, wished her Happy Easter, told her our family's sad news, and inquired after her health. She said she isn't feeling so well. When I asked the matter, she said, "Oh it's just what comes of getting old." She's 90.

I asked if she believed in doctors. (It's a legitimate question.) She answered, "Not the one I've got." She's funny, you know.

"What's wrong with him?"

She said, "He never asks any questions, never says much of anything, probably thinks I'm too old to bother with, always just says, 'You'll be fine' and sends me out the door."

I said, "Well here's the thing, Allie. You may be 90, but you don't sound like it. There's always so much music in your voice, and you just don't sound old. Your voice sounds young."

"Well it doesn't look young," she said. "Where my voice comes from does not look young." See what I mean? She's funny.

I'd like to go down to California again and find out for myself. From here I just don't believe it.