Now that I am seventy

 I've often tried to decide just when a person becomes an Official Old Person--OOP. As I approached the top of each decade I pushed the date forward ten years. I'm not sure I can do that this time.

I was already depressed about being seventy when a few days before my birthday I visited my doctor. I like the lady; she is from Argentina and is very calm and caring--at least she seems to be. I had had blood work done before my visit and from the numbers she declared that I would now need medication for my diabetes and for my high blood pressure.

That same day I received a letter from a local funeral home suggesting I might want to make advanced funeral arrangements.

That same week our 15 year old dog, Tasha died.

I checked out the obituary page in the news paper and found that many people were dying in their seventies or even younger. If God grants us three score and ten years--70--I must now be living on borrowed time, as my great nephew, Anthony Henry observes.

Allen took me out for a birthday dinner at Hemingway's at the Grand Cyprus Resort in Orlando near Disney. This is our special occasion destination. Dinner conversation centered on end of life issues, but it was not depressing. I asked him if he knew he had only seven more years to live, what would he do? He answered he would not do anything differently. Really?

I would travel. I want to see China--the Great Wall, that huge dam they built, the terra cotta soldiers and the Forbidden City. I would want to lose weight so they would not have to buy an "extra large" casket for me. I'd want to see at least one thing I've written published.

So what will I do about it? In the next year I intend to exercise more. Early morning walks with my husband are pleasant and don't take a huge chunk of time out of my day. I intend to go to bed earlier and get up earlier when the house is quiet and use that time to write. Since the writing and walking may conflict I guess I'll have to go to bed really early and get up while it is still dark.

I think I hear my husband baby-talking the cats. Guess it's time to close here and cook us some oatmeal with raisins and apples. MMMMM!