“Life is difficult.” The first sentence in “The Road Less Traveled,” the best seller by Scott Peck, published in 1978.

“Old age ain’t for sissies.” The wry comment often made by my mother (Moo), always with a twinkle in her eye.

As a resident of Thornton Oaks, a retirement community where the median age is in the mid-80s, I’ve come to appreciate even more the wisdom revealed in these pithy words. While life is challenging, we oldsters must learn to cope with the challenges with optimism and humor.

I wrote a piece several years ago about two 103-year-old men entitled, “A Pair of 103s.” These men had lived very different lives, but both of them retained a positive attitude right up until the end. They woke up every morning with the thought; “This is going to be a great day.” They enjoyed meeting new people and learning new things. Life’s vicissitudes never quelled their spirits.

As it happens, a 102-year-old resident of Thornton Oaks died a few weeks ago. He had a ritual of walking 3 miles every day, and he died while taking a walk. Now that’s the way to go. That same man had attended a trivia party just a few days before he died.

I recently had a nice chat with a 100-year-old resident who remains positive, always interested in learning about life and the people she meets. She noted how great it was to live in a college town like Brunswick, recalling the years she and her husband lived in a college town, when he was a professor.

Not all older people deal with aging so gracefully. They complain about their many aches and pains, giving endless “organ recitals.” Or they constantly rue the changes in their own circumstances, from a major event (the loss of a loved one) to a minor inconvenience (the bus is late), or about society in general. “Back in my day (fill in the blank).” Or kids who never call them. Or the food — too salty, not salty enough, overcooked, undercooked and on an on.

I’d rather spend my remaining years with the positive souls, not the Eeyore types. Misery loves company, they say, but I don’t want to be in the company of miserable people. Life’s too short and getting shorter all the time.

Toxic people ain’t no fun. Give me the people who can laugh at their foibles, or anything else, for that matter. I treasure the friends who can’t wait to tell me about a new book they read or concert they attended or sunset they enjoyed.

People who age gracefully always seem to be looking forward to something to do or see. They delight in the small pleasures. They don’t harbor regrets about the past, which makes sense because you can’t undo the past anyway. Today is all we’ve got.

Tina’s grandmother exemplified the value of staying positive while dealing with challenges. When she was a young woman, several doctors told her she had to have her leg amputated because of an infection. She persisted until she found a doctor who would operate on the leg. The operation was successful, although she had to wear special shoes because one leg ended up shorter than the other She had to use a cane or a walker for the rest of her life, but she never complained. Moreover, she continued doing her artwork for most of her life. She made up delightful stories when Tina would say, “Tell me a story out of your mouth.” When she began to lose some memory, she just laughed about getting “diddly.” Tina exemplifies the same positive spirit, a testament to her grandmother.

My parents were good role models for aging. My dad, who lived to be 97, was playing in bridge tournaments and relieving Atlantic City of their money, thanks to his card counting prowess, well into his nineties. My mother, who died at 89, was helping a Chinese woman learn English and staying in touch with nieces and nephews and friends until she died of a sudden heart attack.

A friend recently recommended a book entitled, “Hope for Cynics: The Surprising Science of Human Goodness” by Jamil Zaki. He suggests the need for hope in a world in which cynicism all too often brings us down. He notes that “hope is a precise, powerful strategy for wellness, harmony, and social change.”

I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. But I know it will be a good day. And the day after that will be a good day too.

David Treadwell, a Brunswick writer, welcomes commentary and suggestions for future “Just a Little Old” columns at dtreadw575@aol.com.