So a few days ago, I decided I would live until 120. I also remember as a kid trying to will myself to grow a third set of teeth, but that doesn't happen. But then living to 120, technology might come to the point that it does allow us to grow new teeth.
And those thoughts kind of left me wondering at how amazing life is, and odd. There's this mechanism that has us create all the parts of our body from a program, and it works, and it creates us, and then it shuts down mostly. And our experience is it's pretty hard to turn on those processes again, for instance to grow new teeth, or an organ that's failing. I suppose you need to get back to much less differentiated cells in order to be able to direct growth to new organs, but the undifferentiated cells could just as easily end up being a cancer, or we might at least end up playing in that area. So when we do get to growing new teeth, we'll also have to find some way of not growing wrong things, or teeth where we don't want them.
And I woke up with the thought that I have no experience of my father's experience of his parents. I never knew his mother but as losing her mind, quiet, drugged out. I don't think I ever asked. My impressions of his father, I have from a few pictures, and one or two stories. I know a little bit of the history, but I don't know if they had sweet, or serene, or adventurous moments. I don't know how my dad wished his dad to be. I don't know if he tried.
Or maybe I didn't ask the right questions. There must have been a tender moment along the way, or an inside joke.
And maybe these are things that should be left to die. Our job, I suppose, is to create the future, not dwell in the past.