Our theme this month is "What Scares You?". I could write about ghosts or vampires or demons, but I'm not afraid of monsters. I understand the human fascination with them, but I don't happen to share it. I don't read or write horror; I don't even read much paranormal romance. Intellectually, I can understand the vicarious thrill of being frightened when deep down you know you're safe, but it's never resonated with me on an emotional level. I tend not to be afraid of external things or people. My fears are usually more personal.
Tomorrow is my first fifty-ninth birthday. I may have more--I'll have to see how this year goes. The Big 6-0 is far more daunting than any birthday I've yet faced, including the dreaded thirtieth. I'm in excellent health and working hard to stay that way, but there's no telling how long that good health will last. Since I spent my working life in the insurance business, I know the difference between morbidity (poor health) and mortality. Mortality I can accept, but morbidity is another matter.
In February, I lost my father after a fifteen-year battle with Parkinson's Disease. We watched him decline, slowly and steadily, despite his ferocious will to live and live well. His struggle forced me to acknowledge one of my greatest fears--becoming frail and physically dependent. I never want my child to have to see me unable to care for my own most basic needs. Unfortunately, that's the future facing many of us unless advances in medicine allow quality of life to catch up to quantity.
And worse than physical decline is mental decline. Three of my grandparents lived into their nineties. My beloved maternal grandmother lived to be ninety-eight. Both grandmothers suffered from dementia during the last years of their lives, and that is my biggest fear. Again, my fear is not for myself but for my daughter. We are extremely close, and it breaks my heart to think of putting her through that ordeal. I hope progress can be made on treatment, or even prevention, of Alzheimer's and other forms of dementia during the next thirty years, but I'm not counting on it. In the meantime, I plan to make every day the best I can and be grateful for every blessing.
9 comments:
Think about allowing your daughter to take care of you as giving her a gift. You did the same for your parents, right?
It's a problem to be faced with extreme old age. My grandma will be 98 in December. The last few years have been a stead decline both physically and with short term memory loss. I guess we don't get to choose when we go, but there's something to be said for not being quite that stubborn about sticking around. My girls watch my mom's patience and care dealing with my grandma and have already told me I'm on my own!
Margo, my mom is still going strong but I haven't lived in the same city as my parents for twenty-five years, so I'm afraid I can't claim to have truly been there for them as they aged. Fortunately, they were always extremely self-sufficient. I do anticipate that we'll need to do more for Mom over the next ten years or so.
Jannine, I think the best gift we can give our children in that regard is what my grandmother and mother did -- choose a comfortable, supportive place to live as you age before they have to do it for you.
I'm not far behind you, Alison, and I share some of those same fears. It's all about quality of life.
Leah, as my mom used to say, "you put in your nickel, and you take your chances."
I completely understand where you're coming from, Alison. I would never want to put that burden on my children. I know that they love me, but I wouldn't want their lives spent caring for me. My mother is in a nursing home, and she has Lewy Body, and dementia is part of the disease. She's told us our entire lives that she never wants to be a burden to us and that if she can't take care of herself, then stick her somewhere and forget her. Well, she can't take care of herself, and we can't take care of her either. So we did have to 'stick' her somewhere, but we definitely have not forgotten her. She has regular visitors (I visit at least once a week, and my son visits her once a week and her other children and grandchildren visit her, as does her friend), which is more than I can say for others in the nursing home. However, she is pressuring us and guilt-tripping us because she wants to come home (She's precious and loving and wonderful, but she is very persistent about wanting to come home). We tried to take her home last November and she fell twice and the fire dept had to come out to assist her and she broke her knee and my sister had to have shoulder surgery from trying to lift her and help her. So...it's just not feasible. I know she isn't aware of the kind of pressure she's putting on us, and I believe she meant it when she said she didn't want to be a burden, but her mind isn't exactly right, so we have to explain why she can't come home over and over. It is very painful to tell her... Sorry to ramble, but your post hit close to home.
Alicia,
This topic strikes home for so many of us! I'm so sorry for your situation with your mom. It embodies my greatest fear.
I can't say anything that will allay your fears. Old age is the only choice and how we age is not always in our hands. Through my own health problems I've prayed to have the strength to remain independent. We'll see.
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