Everyone has his own attitude 61 getting old. The night before her eighth birthday, I found my daughter Lizzy sat on her bed 62 (weep).“I love being seven,”she cried.“I don’t want to be eight!”I held her in my arms and explained that 63 was going to be even better to be eight than being seven. I told her how much I loved her and 64 a wonderful birthday she was going to have. 65 (eventual) she was comforted. It’s always strange 66 (tell) that you are a year older, even when you aren’t very old. Now I’m in my early 60s, and I don’t always recognize the face in the mirror, 67 something has changed the way that I think. The process of aging increasingly interests and amazes me, annoys and irritates me, and sometimes still makes me 68 (frighten), too, but much, much less than it used to. There is 69 ongoing sadness at the absence of the friends and family members 70 have died before me.