This weekend I’m taking a trip up to Massachusetts to visit my grandmother and celebrate her 80^th birthday (she’s jewish, so she’s bubbeh to me). Eighty years of life seems like a hell of a lot to me. I’m 22 and already I feel like my brain is getting full from all the memories and experiences I’ve got packed up there.

She lives a super-active life, always going on trips and getting into all kinds of zany adventures. She’s still learning, taking college courses in her spare time. I think it’s damn impressive that she still does all that when a lot of the other people her age always seem so tired and worn out on life. She’s a great grandma too, doing her job of spoiling us grandkids (but not too much), and always willing to go out to the movies or just hang out and talk. All I can hope is that I still love life as much as she does when I’m her age.

Here’s to you, bubbeh.