I'm not talkin' about me. All my parts are still working. I haven't had a brain lapse since I tried to drive a stranger's car home from the mall. But, as you know, that was months ago.
I'm talking about getting really old.
I'm taking a class and one of the questions was "Where do you expect to be in 20 years?" After much thought, I answered, "Dead."
But my good friend reminded me that her mother is 20 years older than we are and she's still very much alive and making life interesting for herself and her family.
All this to say that one of the first things I did after coming home to Florida was to visit my Oldies. Through A Series of Unfortunate Incidents they're now in assisted living. They didn't go quietly.
At 89 and 90 they have many serious health issues including heart disease and Alzheimer's. They're in a lovely place but they no longer have the freedom to eat in restaurants three times a day and do the other things they love.
But they are absolutely where they need to be.
I was so happy to see them - but afraid they wouldn't know me. They did. She knew my name but he called me Beatrice a couple of times.
I said, "Who is this Beatrice? My name is Cess." He laughed (but he had no idea who Beatrice was either.)
Dave has a very dignified older friend who has never, ever used bad language but he recently said:
"Dave, getting old is the pits!"
But he didn't say pits.
***
