Aging

It occurs to me that there may be a saving grace to dying young.  As much as I think that for my children's sake I do not want to leave this world on July 12, 2017, at the age of 47 1/2 - at least it would spare them the frustration of seeing me grow old.  

It was very frustrating to deal with my mother in her final years.   Even though a part of me feels like a horrible daughter for saying that - it is true.  I've observed similar sentiments in others caring for their aging parents.  It is such a fine line between the day when they are still able to drive and might willingly surrender their keys anyway, for the good of humanity, and the day when they are a threat to public safety but too proud or foggy headed to surrender their keys.

How many conversations go something like this:

ADULT CHILD:  Mom, did you remember to take your medicine this morning?

MOM:  Why do you keep asking me that?  I know I need to take my medicine.  I won't forget.

ADULT CHILD:  What did you have for breakfast this morning?

MOM:  I don't know - did I eat breakfast?  I don't remember.

And they fail to see the connection that they just said they won't forget their medicine but they can't even remember if they ate a few hours ago.

I know there is a medical / psychological basis for all of it - but that doesn't make it any less frustrating.  I would very much like to save my children from that frustration.  Hopefully I'll live well past 7/12/17 and by then there will be a breakthrough so that the senior fogginess is no longer a problem.