Counting

My mother died 28 years ago today, the first day of summer the last day of my mother. I loved being 28. That was 56 years ago, not as long ago as the Inca civilization or the death of Chaucer, but now let us look at the future. If I end up living as long as my mother did, the year will be 2037 a year in science fiction. But why is the pasta water taking so long to boil?