I was doing just fine, thanks. And then, last December, I turned 90. At the time, I thought, Oh, how nice. And they are throwing me a nice party. “Drinks all around. Richard has turned 90.”
And then, life went on.
And then, guess what? That following July 2nd, we celebrated
our 70th anniversary. Now, not many people celebrate turning 90 . .
. but 70 years of marriage? And a Happy 70? Even fewer.
And then, we kept on truck’n.
But, for reasons I fail to understand, I have become aware
of why relatively few turn 90 successfully, and then keep on truck’n. Nothing
dramatic happened. Yeah, Carol has had her chemo infusions and they are unhappy events.
The first 7 seven days now of each month (Monday – Friday and then Monday and
Tuesday) she receives two shots of a chemo in her belly. And they are beyond annoying for her. They hurt.
They tire her. But she is a tough cookie and keeps on truck’n. Yep, she
continues quilting for those sick kids at the hospital, keeps on fixing me wonderful
meals daily, and we even go on our datenites each Thursday at the Brewery. So,
our lives together continue.
But I have begun experiencing sleep difficulties (as does Carol).
In part, I have begun thinking more about the inevitable consequences of this
aging thing. Which is that, at some
stage, you stop living. Yeah, partly, I
now keep seeing postings on social media about folks of whom I am aware, who
just died. Most are well known actors, but I also learn about people I actually
know who just croaked.
And then I notice little things. I used to walk confidently,
even run confidently. Now I walk carefully. I am not exactly unsteady on my
feet. But confidently is not how I might describe my style.
And, although I routinely see folks who are well into their
90s, seemingly alive and well, I am not really seeing myself with them. And
then, the more religious among us, including those few within the family, talk
about the recently departed as “looking down on us from that heavenly place up
above.” But I am thinking, “well no, THEY simply no longer exist.” We listen to
Stephen Colbert routinely. He often asks a guest what happens when we die. And
their responses always seem to at least touch on that afterlife thing, although
most are tentative. But my brain keeps thinking, “Well, what happens, is that
your brain ceases to operate, and you no longer know anything, including the
fact that you are dead.” Yeah, you are dead, but YOU DO NOT KNOW THAT.” Why,
well because you have no brain. And YOU
were always simply your brain. So, there
is no AFTER Thingie. And that’s where my
actual alive brain ceases to imagine. Happily, we have no way of knowing when
that will happen. AND, we will never know when it actually happens, cuz then,
we will no longer know anything.
