I laughed my way to108!
Dexter has unlocked the key to longevity
When you’re as old as I am, you have a lot of time to think... ...of smart answers! I mused cheekily, as yet another person asked that question.
‘How have you lived to 108? What’s your secret?’ I’m asked time and again.
‘Well, that’s easy,’ I begin, nodding seriously.
‘An extract of concentrated monkey glands – a couple of drops every morning, that’s all it takes.’ I couldn’t help but chuckle. Truth is, I have no idea why I’m still here.
But I have learned it’s important to keep laughing!
I’ve even composed a clever ditty that unlocks the key to my longevity.
‘Always eat when you are hungry, always drink when you are dry, always sleep when you are sleepy, don’t stop breathing or you’ll die!’ I rattle off.
See, at my age, you become a bit of an exhibit.
But those are just a handful of sentences I’ve strung together over the past two decades.
Ever since losing my dear wife Gladys, then 77, in 1996, writing has been my salvation.
Gladys had me from the moment she smiled at me across a country dance hall.
In that smile was a Cupid’s arrow and together we spent 52 wonderful years as man and wife.
Alone at 86, my local historical society asked me to pen a book about early settlement in the region.
A cattle farmer all my life, I’d now found my calling as an author – in my 80s!
Having lived through the Depression, two World Wars and marvelled at many amazing new inventions, I had so many stories to tell.
Transported to a different time, I noted my memories in longhand.
In between, I still rode a four-wheeler on my property and was felling trees!
Then, my sight began to deteriorate. By the time
I was 98, I couldn’t even see my hand. My eyes were shot, but everything else was holding up pretty well.
At this rate, I had a good chance of making it to 100!
I’m going to do it! I thought, determined.
Lo and behold, I did.
Living at home until I was 103, I then moved into Pinaroo Retirement Home.
Each morning I exercise for 45 minutes
Five years on, I’m officially Australia’s oldest man.
‘That’s only because all the others have died!’ I’ll quip.
Making it this far, death is simply part of life. When it’s my turn, I’ll take it in my stride.
Now, I’m writing my 11th book, which my friend Janet transcribes for me.
Funnily enough, I don’t feel old. Each morning, I do a 45-minute exercise regime and I’m determined to steer clear of wheelchairs.
‘You’re wobbly, but you still hold me up,’ I say, patting my legs.
My Aunt Anna lived to 103, my cousin Joe to 100, and another, Brent, recently joined the centurion club.
No doubt genetics play a part, but trust me, a cheerful disposition helps.
I’ve genuinely enjoyed every minute of my life. Here’s to making it to 110!