Today, the 17th of May, was my mother's birthday.  She passed away a few months before her 90th birthday.  She would have been 101 today.  I miss her when I hear music she would sing, or when I find old movies online, which she loved and had told us about, or when I suddenly can't remember all the words of a song she sang.  But I know for sure, she would not have wanted to live till a 101.  She waited till my father passed away, more so as he had senile dementia in the last few years of his life, and she felt she had to be there for him and then was more than ready to go.  She lived only nine and a half months after my father's death and she went in a flash, the way she had wanted to go.  I guess she must have all the music she wants where she's now.