Great Genes!

Aunt Etta lived to the ripe old age of 101. Her niece, my Mom, has reached 100. In some ways, I'm proud of this remarkable achievement. Mom is strong, tenacious, and righteous. And ornery. She has a loyal circle of friends, who admittedly come around less often, now that she is bedridden and sleeps more. On the other hand, she is definitely dependent, and her care is expensive.

It's sobering to see how my family is aging. Cousins in my dad's generation are becoming frail and dependent. I'm sure every child generation eventually comes to this place, where the realities of aging land like a ton of cement as the aches, pains and stiffnesses begin to affect their own mobility and quality of life.

No one wants to be a burden; but in my case, the retirement age and the age at which I can begin to collect Social Security keep getting raised - I may actually need to work till I'm 90, as I have joked for years. In my youth, the retirement age was 55. Now it's approaching 70. I suppose that means I'll have a longer time to accumulate retirement savings, downsize the dwelling, and prepare for assisted living, but I feel like I'm chasing a rainbow.

Fledgling

Daughter has fledged. She'd been talking all summer about moving out by September, and by golly, she did! I am proud of her initiative and all the work she put into finding a roommate, finding an apartment, discussing budgets, and considering proximity to public transportation.

Seeing all her boxes staged in our dining room, and then being trucked out the door was sad, and this place seems bigger and emptier and lonelier now, even though she didn't spend a whole lot of time at home before the move.

Now, we'll see whether she puts the same effort into maintaining a good relationship with her roommate, who earns more than she does, and to turning her part-time job into a full-time one. I'm going to wait a month before officially considering myself an empty-nester.