I spent yesterday at Winthrop Hospital with Aunt Mary. She had a port put in for her chemotherapy (which started at 8:30 this morning) and I read Love in the Time of Cholera for my book group. I left the house at 9:45, drove the 40 miles or so to pick her up, spent the day mostly reading, eating and waiting, then drove her home. We had dinner together and then I drove to my book group meeting.
It's hard not to worry about who'll take care of me when I'm 82. Gini keeps saying don't look at Joe or Michael, and I understand-everyone has their own lives.
I guess I have two choices-stay really, really healthy or find the lesbian old age home (soon!) so that I'll have a community of friends to care for me.
I never thought I'd be 60, never thought my mother would die, or my dad would get old, or my sister would become a grandmother. It's not that I thought these things wouldn't happen, it's more like I never thought about them.
As my friend Nancy Amy says, old age isn't for sissies, so I guess I'd better "toughen up!'