Yesterday we laid to rest the worn, weary body of my 105-year old father-in-law. As I stood and gazed at the casket Dad himself had picked out, for a moment it felt like 105-years was too short a life.     At 102 years of age, weak and fading, Dad left all he knew and moved in with my husband and me, hundreds of miles away from his beloved New York countryside. Honestly, we thought he’d live just a few more...