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For the past several years, I've been experiencing aches and pains which are often blamed on aging, but these came upon me gradually. I had back problems years ago at work, so when my right knee started acting up, and my left elbow ached after repetitive activity, I didn't think to much of it. Just get out the ibuprofen and get on with life.
The gray beard wasn't an issue either, since I started using Just for Men at the first sign of trouble, and I suppose I sort of fell into denial--it's not gray if it doesn't look gray. Now my story is that Donna doesn't want me to color it so that the young girls won't pay any attention to me when I flirt with them. I won't say whether it's true or not, but that's the story. But since I cut my tail off in March and began to let the beard grow longer, it's like a makeover--a different me, so I don't really associate the gray with age.
Ok, so it's time to come out of denial! I don't remember who it was that I was conversing with the other day, but I mentioned that I'm at the top of the family tree now. Actually, I've been there since my mother died 15 years ago, so that hadn't sunk in either. So this morning, I began updating my will. The last one was written when me and the ex bought the motel, and that was completed at the lawyers office. Just some questions, but not a lot of though about the implications of it. Just part of doing business.
Today it was different. I'm using a sample will that I downloaded from a legal site and the text from the old will. Another greaser who would know made a few suggestions about DIY wills and I'm off to a good start. The difference is that this time around I actually had time to think about what would become of my stuff after I'm not here to keep an eye on things. Can Donna manage this house on her own? The house, maybe, but not the property. On the other hand, the day may come when I'm still alive that I can't manage the property either. I got the outside painted a few years ago, but I don't look forward to getting back up on the scaffold to do it again (Donna wants it painted yellow). It's not that I care about the stuff for my sake. I believe that after I'm gone, anything left behind in this existence won't matter, even if my consciousness lives on in some way. I only care about getting the best use out of the stuff for those (especially Donna) who I leave behind.
I sent an email to my SIL asking if she'd be the alternate executrix if me and Donna make the final passage at the same time. Used to be that I could keep this sort of thing in my own generation on the assumption that my premature death would be accidental, but not any longer. Now I have to go almost a full generation lower (yup, my bro married a young one) to get good odds that the person will outlive me.
Well, do you see now how this process can bring the reality of life expectancy into the present? I still don't feel old, but I realize that I am no longer as young as I feel. My neighbor in Phoenicia used to say that he'd live to be 100. He made it to 62. So lets be realistic! I have often wondered how one knows when the time has come to spend what's been saved for a "rainy day"... Is it raining at 56?
