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I don't want to live a minute past the point where I cannot take care of myself or my animals. Having seen both parents suffer the effects of strokes, there is such a big difference between merely existing and having quality of life. The body is a shell that my spirit resides in. Once it no longer serves its purpose, it's time to discard it and move on.
My favorite PaPa was 93 when he passed last April. He was driving and had an active social life up until the last 4 months of his life. We roller skate on Friday mornings and our oldest skater is 92. If I can be like them then yes, I would love to live 100 years.
My roller skating boyfriend was 84. His family had nothing to do with him, and his friends were gone. He lived alone with his cat and had no telephone. The only physical contact he had was my weekly hug after skating.
I haven't seen him in two weeks now and when I saw him last I thought he was in congestive heart failure, or he had pneumonia. He looked terrible and I begged him to let me take him to the hospital. He told me no and said that he wanted to die.
I tried to find his house last Saturday because I was worried about him and his poor cat trapped and starving. I talked to some of the neighbors in the area he lives and one of them told me that someone had died last Friday around 8pm. Was it him? I don't know. I guess I'll have my answer in a few weeks when he never shows up again.
Do I want to live into my 90's with that same scenario? Nope. I totally understand why he was ready to go.
I do have a lot of shorties in my life and some of them have children of their own now. If they continue to enrich my life like they do now, then yes, I would love to see their children's children. It's all about quality for me and if I could continue down this path of quality and add quantity. Why not
In the mean time I'm going to lose these 20 pounds, stay fit and active, and hope for the best case scenario.
I have instructions if/when there is a crisis but otherwise take it one day at a time.
Life is precious when the quality of life allows independence--for me that means independent living. Age is always just a number no matter how old I get. The quality of life is more important, and I will settle for far less than perfect, of course, but will not settle for dependency.
I would not want to die at age 95. Imagine how stressful it is to be that old. You have all kinds of aches and pains, and you feel like you're falling apart. And you probably can't hear what someone is trying to tell you, and you probably can't see who they are. Way too much stress. Then, if you die, that's even more stress. Nothing is more stressful than dying. Add it all up, the stress of being 95, and the stress of dying, all in one day, is just way too much stress for one day. I would want to put off dying for at least another 5 years, to avoid all that extra stress.
Last Sunday, Santa Anita legend John Shear celebrated his 95th birthday. Still working at the track, the diminutive Shear (4'-10") does 60 pushups a day, and works to get away from his wife:
Last night, my 94-year-old neighbor passed away at his home near Tampa FL, where he and his wife lived most of the year (they also have a place in Maine, quite near us).
My question to you is: would you want to live to the age of 94-95? Why, or why not?
There is something about racetrack life that keeps people young. There are many trainers out there over 80 years old, showing up every single morning at the crack of dawn.
There is something about racetrack life that keeps people young. There are many trainers out there over 80 years old, showing up every single morning at the crack of dawn.
Is it possible that the early morning work-outs are helping with the longevity? All you slug-a-beds out there should pay attention.
I'm 80 and I live alone, still drive to the grocery store, cook my own meals, maintain my house, though I'm not as particular as I once was. I sit with my youngest grandkids from time to time. I take myself to the doctor and after some debate, usually abide by their "suggestions".
I'm not afraid of dying. After all, I'm not going to know I did. What I fear most is not being able to take care of my own needs. So when it's time to go, while I may not go willingly, I'll go knowing that no one will have to take care of me. "Let there be no moaning at the bar when I put out to sea."
One of my grandchildren has a great-grandmother (on her Mother's side) age 103. Grandma calls every day. She lives with family members and while I don't know the state of her physical health, her cognitive skills are apparently pretty sharp.
I find this article especially interesting as I worked on the racetrack (primarily NY and FL tracks) for twenty years, and was always impressed by the number of older people still working. I've known several trainers who worked well into their 80's, and plenty of exercise riders still galloping horses in their 60's (my ex is one). A life of working outdoors and the level of fitness involved must be a contributing factor, though I also think that loving what you do can't hurt. I remember waking up in the wee hours and being excited about going to work, and actually looking forward to it, and no job since has given me that level of satisfaction.
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