85, which is how long Grammy Brisk322 lived.
As long as I keep my marbles, I'm not too concerned about the remainder. I've seen Alzheimer's (Wifey's Mom works in an assisted living home), and while it looks like it's not too bad on the inside ("Ooh! Beans for dinner! I haven't had these since...I don't remember when!"), I'm horrified at the thought of putting Wifey through that.
Speaking of Wifey...77. Ugh. 6 years without Wifey. OTOH, she'll be spared the pain of burying me, though I think she'd handle my passing with more grace than I'd handle hers.
Dear unconceived children of Brisk322, I shall die quietly quoting Star Wars lines, on a soft bed in a nursing home. I will not know you, I shall refer to you as "My Young Apprentice" even when there are several of you there.
"If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine."
"Soon...will I rest. Yes. Forever sleep. Earned it I have."
Difficult to tell. Always in motion, the future is.