'Thou wast in Eden, the garden of God; every precious stone was thy covering, the sardius, the topaz, and the diamond.'
While I'm thinking of it--when you are an old man like I am, you might think of writing some sort of account of yourself, as I am doing. In my experience of it, age has a tendency to make one's sense of oneself harder to maintain, less robust in some ways.
Why do I love the thought of you old? That first twinge of arthritis in your knee is a thing I imagine with all the tenderness I felt when you showed me your loose tooth. Be diligent in your prayers, old man. I hope you will have seen more of the world than I ever got around to seeing--only myself to blame. And I hope you will have read some of my books. And God bless your eyes, and your hearing also, and of course your heart. I wish I could help you carrry the weight of many years. But the Lord will have that fatherly satisfaction."
Marilynne Robinson, Gilead, 209-210