By guest contributor Ben Bradlee

Sometimes I am embarrassed at how satisfied I am with my life.

I’m 85 years old.

My doctor has just told me I’m in good physical shape. Actually, he said, “wonderful” shape.

I am surrounded by the people I love. I live in fabulous houses, spectacular enough to be featured in national magazines, yet comfortable enough for someone who values “comfortable” above “beautiful.”

My kids are healthy and apparently happy. And the same for my 10 grandchildren.

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