Monday, February 26, 2024

Looking over my shoulder

 I faced the unfaceable and stuffed my Temple of Carbs into a bathing suit for the first time this year. I was off to the small pool in our complex to read and maybe catch some conversation.

          Unlike everyone else, I dodged the sun and planted myself safely under the shade of an umbrella and opened my book, but after a while, the chatter in the pool drew me in.

          While we stood in the water, swishing with our hands, one woman there mentioned that when she returned North, she’d be going back to her job in an assisted living facility. I knew one of my friends there at the pool had sold their house in Georgia and moved with her husband to such a place. Both facilities were the ‘staged’ sort, where you might begin in the independent living portion but when the need arose, you would then move on to the next level of care.

          My friend spoke about the changes she’d likely see there when they returned to Georgia from Florida – people needing more help in the common dining room than before, others who they might not see again at all.

          One thing I like about being here is that most of the people I see are in my age range and out and about, which means that paradoxically, with few opportunities for comparison, I tend to forget how old I am.   

          I don’t think I’d like living in a place where the ongoing frailties of others would serve as a graphic reminder to me of what’s ahead.


  1. I agree. It sounds like a bad dream, day in and day out.

  2. You almost make me feel like a ghoul. Just tonight I wrote about how we look out for each other. There's more than one way to parse the scene.

    1. Tactfully put, Joanne. I was thinking about you as I wrote that entry.

  3. I think it is inevitable that we will be with those who are fragile like us. If you go early you will have friends, if you go late you will be with strangers and need to make friends. the only other option is living with family.


Thanks for stopping by and I'd love to hear what you think.