FOOL'S GOLD

         

Fool’s Gold, that’s what my “golden years” actually are. You would think, having watched my mother, grandmother and even my great-grandmother whom I never met, go through their last years of life alone that I would have expected the same for myself. Not once did I think about, or even inquire about, their “golden years.” They all lived much longer than the age I am now, so I guess or expect to have many more years of Fool’s Gold. It sucks.

          Just this morning I was debating on whether to go to my exercise class. I didn’t go on Monday, so this would be the second time I’d miss. I also didn’t do my home PT/exercises today, although I did do them on Monday and Tuesday. I seriously wondered what the point was/is to trying to keep myself in good physical shape. And, okay, it’s so I can have a longer and healthier life. The only actual benefit of staying physically active, at least in my opinion, is that it will keep me from being put into one of those facilities for old people.

          Then, there’s being the only half of a couple that’s left and all your friends still have their mates. They are off doing fun things or even fighting with and appreciating or not appreciating each other, but they are NOT lonely. They have meals together, work around their homes together, sleep together; pretty much do everything a couple does. I, on the other hand, go for days sometimes without speaking to another human. No one cares if I cook dinner or clean the bathroom. It’s lonely and I’m, quite frankly extremely tired of being lonely.

          Some people have jokingly (I think) suggested I visit one of those dating sites on the internet….Silver Singles for example but it’s probably more like silverplate. Can you just imagine what kind of partners would be available for a 76-year-old woman? I can and I’ve already done all the caretaking of a male person that I care to. Nope, no new partner for this woman, dating site or no.

          It wasn’t quite so lonely when I had my puppies. Kaizer went over the rainbow bridge in October. I expected to have Karma for years, but she joined her son just a few weeks ago. Even if they weren’t sitting on me, wanting me to play or wanting to go outside, they were still here. The sounds they made as they moved around the house, or even in their beddies, were comforting. Now, it’s just me and silence unless I play music which I do most of the time.

          I’m not going to get another fur buddy and have given away all the dog/cat paraphernalia to insure I don’t. Still, I see people out walking their dogs and feel a pang. A friend just got a new black lab puppy and I so want to reach through the screen and hug/pet him. It’s kind of like another phase of my life has passed by. And, yes, I could continue the phase of pet ownership, but I’m choosing not to do that. So, you say, quit whining about it.

          Now there’s also the question of travel. I’ve been considering a Viking cruise in Europe, but fear keeps me from making the commitment. I wasn’t the least bit afraid in 2020 when I drove myself to the airport, left my car and took that wonderful Caribbean cruise, and returned home to my car in the middle of the night. I felt much younger than I do now and extremely independent.

Then came the pandemic, but I figured at some point I would get out there and go again. That was before I was seriously ill the end of 2020. Even though I didn’t feel very sick, it did a number on my body and it’s only recently I’ve been able to do as much or as many of the things I did before I got sick.

          What does that have to do with my getting on a plane for foreign places. Well, it’s fear. What happens if I get sick so far from home, become injured in some way or who knows what? How would I get back home? Would one of my kids have to come get me? I have no idea.

          Then, too, there’s the fact I would be traveling alone. When I went to Costa Rica on my own seven years or so ago, practically everyone on the trip was part of a couple. Based on something I heard, some of the women thought I was there trolling for their men…seriously!!! Still, I made a couple of traveling buddies, but at the end of the day, they went to their rooms and I went to mine. There was no one with whom I could rehash the day. It was pretty much the same on the 2020 cruise. It was fun, especially having such warmth and sun in February, but still lonely and not as fun as it could have been.

          Even when it comes to trips that would be more local, I find myself looking, thinking, and then closing the web site because it just seems like so much work for so little return. Right now, the tulip fields are in bloom and I think about driving up there, having lunch in La Connor or coming home by way of Edison and that fabulous bakery and that’s it…I just think about it. I make no plans.

          Anyway, today it appears I’m having “pity party” for myself and have chosen to share it through my blog with you. Perhaps part of the reason for the “pity party” was the notebook I recently made for my son entitled, “Instructions on what to do when I die.” He asked me about what I’d had to do for John and then asked if I could provide him with information. So, I did.

Add to that today’s appointment with my attorney to update my “estate” plan. Seriously, that’s what he calls it…to me, only folks like Jeff Bezos, Bill Gates or Warren Buffet have “estate” plans. So, we’ll talk, make changes to the plan John and I did together years ago. Then, that’s it. Between the upon my death instructions and the estate plan, my kids will know how I expect my “afterlife” to be handled whether it’s next week or 20 years from now.

When I had breast cancer 21 years ago, I decided to CHOOSE how I was going to feel each day and make that choice positive. I felt no fear then because I expected to survive and continue on with my life…and I did. So, why am I not CHOOSING to go on that European trip or even to drive to the tulip fields? I’ve thought about it seriously and think it’s the idea of being older and being afraid of what could go wrong as opposed to go right. That makes it so much easier to hunker down and go nowhere. It’s so much easier to sit on the couch and read a book, work in the garden, binge watch shows on the television.

I guess staying put seems so much safer, but it’s definitely not the way I expected to experience my “golden years.” Guess I’ll eventually learn to appreciate my “Fool’s Gold” experiences such as they are/will be. Or, perhaps once the estate plan has been updated and this pity party of mine over, I’ll feel much more positive and CHOOSE to stop hunkering down and get out there. Time will tell I guess.