this woman gave birth to me, then gave me to my adoptive parents. I didn't meet her until I was 57, and I have seen her three or four times since then. We visited again last August, when I went back to my home town for a school reunion. Our story has been told here several times, but in case you haven't read it, go here. Today, I am 67, and it is hard to imagine, but she and I both are still going strong. Life handed her lemons, but she made lemonade every single time. Maybe it's genetic.