Yes… Ok, I know… It has been some time since I published on this Blog. Sorry to those who were following it… But, no: no excuses. I have been working on my Memoires, and there are still so many notebooks to be emptied on to the computer, let alone to be corrected and polished up…  But today, I was cooking up my doggie’s meal and the thought occurred to me… ‘Old age is not for the weak of heart’… I should know; I will be 82 this year and I consider that I am now licensed to talk about ‘getting old’ in general and in specific. This is specific… I have not heard anyone mention or write about the courage required to face the latter years as mental and physical capacities decline. Yes, it takes courage, a lot of it, but nobody who has not gotten there yet even suspects that, and once you’ve gotten there, there is no choice: you either face-up and do it, or you cop out and die which is not always a choice unless you are like my grandmother who saved up her sleeping pills exactly for that purpose.

At this age there are, on one hand, the ‘mistakes’ and ‘mess-ups’ that get more and more frequent as time passes and connections by computer and over the internet for everything become the norm (I didn’t even get an electric typewriter till I was in my twenties, or for that matter a typewriter, till I had learned to write by hand ‘properly’, according to my father, which meant neatly and legibly… around 17 or 18).   But I have learned… I do almost everything I need to do either on the computer or on my phone (more difficult on phone because of the screen size and clumsy fingers).

But even with hands-on, daily things like feeding the dog, or taking my meds I keep having to check with my almost non-existent memory: Have I done that yet? Did I just feed the dog and she gobbled it up and that is why the plate is empty, or did I just think about feeding her and get distracted doing something else and that is why the plate is empty?  Have I taken my vitamins and that is why the dish where I put them is empty, or did I forget to put them out this morning and that is why it is empty? Did I remember to ask my son about the deposit that was pending or should I call him today to ask him, risking his growing impatience with my new mindlessness?

When I was in my late 50’s-early 60’s, I watched my mother decline into dementia. I don’t think I am getting dementia nor do I think I will have it (although it is possible as is anything else, like dying tomorrow, for example). My mind works perfectly as long as it is not required to remember things, like times, appointments, dates, etc. which I usually write down. I can perfectly do things required of me on the computer, so it was nothing but laziness that made me slip my gift to my grandson into my son’s checking account (the information of which was readily available on my screen) and ask him to do the transferring to the said grandson’s account (which I did not have on the computer although I had the info on my phone messages)… instead of doing it myself. My son -obviously- realized it immediately and got annoyed with me.  As if I didn’t know how much he has to do with grown children still depending on him for many things, and a wife at home to care for… Ooops.  

I could call it laziness, but no… it’s weakness, but it is also ‘kindness’ for myself: I’m tired and everything, and I mean everything, takes a mental and emotional (and sometimes physical) effort that was never needed before. So if I can pass off a little chore to someone else, well bless my heart, I’m going to do it. No one understands this -nor should they- until they get here… and here is 80+ whatever, and I won’t be around then to say: “See, I could have told you so”…  But I should know…

I watched my great-grandmother decline into oblivion before she slipped away; my grandmother decided to save us all the experience and committed suicide with sleeping pills she had purposely saved up over the years, at the age of 83 (an age I will reach in a year’s time more or less… ) and my mother’s mind went completely by the time she was 70 something and she became the ‘child’ to whom I was the ‘mother’ until she passed at the age of 91.  

So now it is my turn, I am the next in line and things … living in general… begin to be more and more complicated as my will and my capacities weaken. So far it is mostly my will… Except for having to write everything down or else forget much of what I have to do each day, I am doing pretty well attic-wise. I continue working on my Memoires, and writing an occasional blog such as this one, which makes me very happy.

I am learning to practice patience (which I lacked for many others in my life) with myself and be kind most of the time. I’ll occasionally find myself crying because of some silly thing I have done or not been capable of doing (as well or as fast as I expect myself to do), and I’ll have to sit down with Me and hug myself and tell Me I am doing OK for the age I have and not to worry.  And, I have decided and accepted that I won’t obligate myself to do this to the  bitter end,  for I have chosen a home in Cuernavaca -Mexico- where I will ‘intern’ for the latter years.

This -the internship- was not my idea. I was considering returning to Mexico some time soon about a year ago and announced the pending decision to my children over a group conversation one night. Much to my surprise, in a follow-up mail, I got a list of ‘Residences for the Elderly’ that my daughter had researched in Mexico. When I got over from the shock, I realized that it had been a not very pleasant chore that my daughter had so generously set herself to, and I should be grateful. I went through the list, picked out one I especially liked that would take me with my little dog and, during my last visit to Mexico, my children were kind enough to take me there for lunch and to meet the owners and directors of the Retreat. So I am all set up, and my plan is to intern as of Holy Week next Spring. The name of the Residence: Eden.

Am I doddering? No.  But there is nothing that I can do in my small apartment in Madrid that I can’t do there, so why should I shun all the service (medical and otherwise) that will be offered there, when I am beginning to feel so tired of having to organize even my own very simple life? I`ll have company if I want it, entertainment if I want it (without having to take a taxi to the nearest movie theater), dining room or room service if I wish and I can have my dog. The climate if perfect (for old age), there is a 5000 sq. meter garden, a swimming pool and Cuernavaca holds dear memories for me of my sobering-up process in the Clínica Cantú. So all is well.  If everything goes as planned, I will be in Eden by next summer at the latest.