“The first  
hundred years  
are the hardest.”  
Wilson Mizner

It was about 2:30 yesterday afternoon. Kathy, along with my youngest son, Brendan, took my grandson, Henry, to the park. When they left home, I was sitting in a comfortable chair in the living room. I was tired. While a nap was tempting, I thought better of it and decided to get up and go, though I had no particular destination in mind.

I got in my car and drove down Williams Road to Saratoga Avenue. On a whim, I turned left and proceeded south on Saratoga to Prospect Road. It was there that the thought of stopping for a cup of hot chocolate crossed my mind.

I parked the car outside Starbucks and walked toward the front door. I noticed that an elderly gentleman was sitting alone at a table in front of the store. I ordered my drink and, while waiting for it to be prepared, I noticed the man moving a couple of chairs from his table back to other tables. I got my drink and went outside.

“You’ve got the whole patio to yourself,” I proclaimed, and I sat down at an adjacent table. I hadn’t given it much thought at the time, but I figured the man was probably in his early nineties. He was comfortably dressed and proudly sported a Stanford University cap. His name is Tony. He’s 101 years old!

We had a delightful conversation which lasted more than an hour. We talked about where we were from, where we’d gone to school, and what we had done for work in our careers. We spoke of our kids and grandkids, experiences we’ve had in common, and where we currently live. Tony moved into an apartment in West San Jose several years ago after meeting his “soul mate.” The apartment directly above her unit was vacant, so Tony moved in. They had several wonderful years together before Elaine, as a result of a fall in her apartment, passed away. That was five years ago.

Tony confided in me that he didn’t have many people to talk with anymore. All of his school buddies have died. When Elaine passed, Tony was left with some family members around the country, but he was alone in Silicon Valley. 

He drives (yes, he drives — he just renewed his driver’s license for another five years!) from his apartment to Starbucks every afternoon, just to get out for a while. Yesterday, he had been visiting with two men he’d met at Starbucks in recent years. They had departed prior to my arrival, which is why Tony was rearranging the chairs while I was inside getting my drink.

Tony also does his own shopping and cooking. Despite his age, he is quite self-sufficient and his cognitive abilities are impressive. I thoroughly enjoyed my conversation with him, and I’m looking forward to getting together with him again soon.

While I didn’t have a destination in mind when I left my home yesterday afternoon, I am convinced that God did have something planned for me. Something very special. Meeting and conversing with Tony was an absolute gift. His outlook on life is refreshingly positive, and I know we barely scratched the surface of the many stories he has to tell about his life.

“At 101, you’re not living for the joy of new experiences; you’re surviving out of sheer curiosity to see what ridiculous challenge life throws at you next.” 
(Roselio Muniz, age 101)