The other day I saw an older woman on the street. She walked slowly, measuring every step carefully, leaning on a cane. Someone helped her step off the curb and she thanked them with a smile.

Her eyes were squinting as though she could not see clearly. But she was nicely dressed in a pantsuit her feet in heavy jogging shoes. I thought I did not know this woman but stepping closer I recognized her: it was THE NEW ME, the one who turned 95 just a few weeks ago. She was basically like THE FORMER ME, yet so different in many ways. Here is how the two of us are alike yet so very different.