Getting old is surely not a pleasant topic for anyone, but for some reason I dread it. I dread the confusion, the loneliness, and the slow passing of time.
I keep thinking about that woman in Louisburg that mom told me about. She lived in my favorite house in Louisburg across from the college. She came to one of mom's classes or something and showed pictures of places she'd been. Mom said how impressed she was with this woman and how amazing she seemed. But this lady decided she did not want to get old. when she got to her chosen age, she killed herself.
1st. how and when do you decide your time on earth should be over? If a 5 year old decided that 30 was old, then that would just be ridiculous. Then people who live to be 100 think that 80 is young. How did this woman decide 50 or what ever the age was old enough?
2nd. I don't think, no mater how much I don't want to get old, I would ever be able to make that decision, or much less go through with it.
Did that woman not have a family? a husband? children? Grandchildren?
That would be an impossible decision to make if she had any close family.
This is all brought on by tuter and Grandeddy. I have seen tuts confusion for years now, and it never really gets easier. She can still have days that take me by surprise (even if I am not there to see it) And mom, as brave as she is, has decided the only way to deal with such surprises is to laugh at it. To find the humor. And I just can't do that, no matter how hard I try.
Grandeddy today said to me "i don't know where ces went today. she was here this morning and fixed breakfast but then she left" Mom assured me that he probably meant melody. but that's not what he said.
Poor grandeddy, all he does all day is sit. He will sit in the house and look out the window. then he will go and sit under the carport. then when it gets hot he will go and sit under the pecan tree. he just sits and stares, like he is looking for something. It just breaks my heart.
He did know who I was though. He said he didn't recognize me when I got out of the car but when I started talking he knew who I was and immediately asked where dad was. Later he asked if melissa was in town or coming soon.
I just don't want to get old. I don't want my children or grandchildren to think of me this way or have to take care of me. The thing is, I don't mind the idea of taking care of mom or dad. where I really hope they don't need it, EVER, I know that if they do need it, one, two or three of us would take on the task.
Anyway, that is my depressing thought of the day.
