John Smith woke up…
All in all, the day was off to a decent start. When you turn 118, simply opening your eyes in the morning feels like an accomplishment worth celebrating.
First things first, he ran through his morning MOT. Unclipped his left eyelidworking fine; then his rightstill a bit cloudy. Rinsed, added some dropsgood as new. Bent what still bends, oiled what doesnt. Tested his forward and reverse, rotated his neck for diagnostic crunches.
Once satisfied that everything still moved (and crackled) as it ought, he gave two hearty stomps and three claps, signalling the beginning of another day.
At eight sharp, as scheduled, a call came through from the Pension Office.
Lydia, good morning! croaked the cheerful birthday boy into the receiver.
And a good morning to you, Mr Smith, Lydia replied, voice mournful as ever, How are you feeling today?
Cant complain, grinned John.
Pity, she sighed. Its already my fifth reprimand this year because of you! Its been thirty years since you stopped taking private pension and went over to the state one!
Well, terribly sorry for that. I heard theres an increase this month?
There is, yes… her tone drooped even further, as if she were a Pierrot from the old musicals, Youre not secretly working anywhere on the side, are you? she prodded, half-hopeful.
No, sadly my money stretches further than I do.
Shame… All the best, then she trailed off and hung up.
At nine oclock, John would sit down to breakfast with his great-great-grandson. The lad didnt live with him, but still had a front door key. Whenever he arrived, hed immediately start measuring thingssometimes the kitchen, sometimes the loo. Then hed sit, calculating materials, estimating labour costs, sketching furniture.
This morning hed come without his tape measureforgotten it.
Theres one on the dresser, John offered, Still got Granddads initials on it, he chuckled, pouring out the tea.
The young man let out a sigh and tucked into Johns famously perfect fried eggs.
At ten, the old man slipped out for a smoke by the front steps.
Oy! Johnny! Still puffing away? You do know smoking causes the neighbour stopped short, staring at the extremely alive old-timer whod begun smoking at the age most folks leave this world for precisely such causes.
Were off to London today, said the neighbour.
What for? asked John.
Gonna have a spin on the Tube, pop over to Trafalgar Square, see Big Ben before they finally scaffold him.
Whats the point? Big Bens Big Ben.
Have you ever seen him then?
I have, actually. He once visited our village.
In his coffin?!
No, in a sleeper train.
How old are you anyway, mate?
Eighteen, just turned, John replied, working the filter between his gums.
Pull the other one.
Its trueI repeated my A-levels twice.
Well, congratulations on coming of age then!
Cheers, John said, and headed inside.
At eleven, the head of British Telecom phoned, positively pleading for John to change his tariff. The one John still used hadnt been available to the public for ages, and by todays pounds it was so out of date that, if anything, the phone company owed *him* a few quid a month.
By five oclock, John popped into the supermarket. On your birthday, they offered a discount equal to your age. John grabbed a cake, a kilo of bananas, and a wide-screen TV. He phoned for a taxi and some blokes to help carry the load, using the change.
At seven, there was a call from the undertaker asking him, at long last, to fetch his insurance paperwork and slippers.
By eight, the guests had arrived. John set the table, switched on his new television, poured some wine. The toasts were brief; no one quite knew what to wish him, so they simply stood and nodded in turn.
At ten oclock, the police knocked and politely asked for a bit of hushthere were elderly folk living next door, after all. John himself opened the door, causing a moment of existential confusion for the constables on the step.
He finally went to bed close to midnight, after the last guests had wandered off home or to the hospital. Smiling into the darkness, he slipped off his ring and tucked it beneath his pillowa magical gold band his wife had commissioned for him, all those years ago, just before shed gone. Engraved softly inside were the words, Live for both of us.
And so he did.
Sometimes the best legacy isnt a fortune or grand gesture, but carrying forward the love and purpose left by those we cherish.
