What is 100 years?

Once upon a time, a young lady met a guy at a dance. That one moment started the line that resulted in me.

This is a picture of the Bogaart family at Christmas in 2006. In the middle, there, that's my grandmother. Today, she turns 100 years old.

Today my flowers will be delivered to her and I'll visit her during the Christmas break and it feels woefully inadequate.

A century.  I can't even fathom it.


I think about how long I've known my husband and it's like a blip on the map of her life. Or how long I've owned my house -- she's never seen it, but it feels like forever to me.

I started thinking about the concept of a long life when I read the Twilight series. I know, from my grandma to vampires? But it got me to thinking about time and how it passes and what this means.

In Twilight, it meant reading innumerable books, learning instruments, travelling and otherwise enriching oneself. For my grandma, it's been a little less glamourous. She did move to a new country, learned a new language, raised crops and animals, produced three children, eight grandchildren, and even has great-grandchildren, volunteered for and championed good causes. She also cooked all the meals, sewed, quilted and knitted because it needed to be done, not because it seemed fun.

She met a boy at a dance one day and it started the line that resulted in me. And who knows what else? Today I marvel at how everyday little happenstances of the most unassuming individual can alter the world. I can only hope that remember this every day and that I may have that much effect in my lifetime -- whether it be 80, 100 or 120 years.