Facing The Future With Grit & Grace

The passing years whisper warnings of memory loss, a thief threatening to steal my understanding of time itself. Vonnegut’s words echo, “unstuck in time,” a fate I refuse. Each book demands context, each grandchild a cherished memory, not just a face. The fear of valuing things but not experiences chill me.

At 80, I realized I was playing with borrowed time. Men, on average (2021), reach 73.5, women 79.3. At 83, I savor each sunrise, a gift beyond the norm. My father, a master of chores, used to say, “Rest at the end, not in the middle.” Heed his words, and here I am, enjoying the “end.”

But what now? Comfort without thought? That feels unfair, a penalty for a sin I never committed. Why must dementia loom as I rest? When, or if, it comes, I’ll fight it like an alligator with a Viagra boost, refusing to surrender to oblivion.

Taylor Swift’s “Mirrorball” speaks of effort, not natural talent. I wasn’t a natural at much, except maybe youthful sports (though that fades in adulthood). Perhaps a “natural” father and husband describe me, though my first wife might disagree on the “husband” part!

The point is that we face age’s challenges, dementia included, with grit and grace. We deal with them, striving for unrestricted lives. My retirement community shows the impact of illness, motivating me to stay active (except Sundays, gotta rest!). Has it worked? The future holds the answer. But one thing’s sure: I’ll shake, rattle, and roll until the end 😊.