We will all get there eventually, just a question when and how.
You think I am being miserable? I did not choose this prompt word, so you have to make the most of it.
Today something is missing in my life. It is a national religious holiday in Switzerland for Ascension Day. The stores as closed and we are surrounded by peace and quiet. Our accomanying building noise is missing, and will be until next Monday, everyone deserves a holiday now and again. I can hear birds singing and a slight breeze is blowing. What shall I do? I should make the most of the time I have left. I remember my dad with his well known words of wisdom. He was in an english care home and I was in Switzerland. When I made my annual visit to London, talk would arrive on the thme “when my time comes” as dad would say.
They are subjects that we all have to organise at some time in our lives, although it is strange talking to a man in his nineties about it. I tried to avoid the subject, but there were certain things I had to know for “when the time comes” and believe me that is a difficult subject to talk about because no-one really wants to admit that the time will come one day. Eventually it happens to all of us. It is a process that is automatic. And I realised that there is no point in even thinking about it in advance so make the most of the time you have. I am now a golden oldie, at the seventies mark, and my only problem is my various passwords on the computer.
They are all on a memory stick, and printed out in a special file with personal stuff. I will survive in an online sense of the word I suppose. I still visit sites in Facebook belonging to colleagues that are no longer amongst us. It is becoming a cemetery of the Facebook colleagues.
At the end of the day, all that is left is an engraved stone with a name and date as a reminder. If you see the photo above, taken at the local cemetery, everything is so monotonous, but it must all fit. I am still planning on a pyramid and having my www address engraved on the stone, but this is all subject to permission. None of us are going to survive, let’s face it, so make the most of it.
Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss 
As my mom said (along with “You’re going to like it whether you like it or not”) was “None of us gets out of this alive.” I’m pretty good with making plans for “when my time comes.” I don’t dread it at all because I won’t be there. 🙂
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One of the advantages of being a golden oldie is why worry. When the talk Is about in ten years you might or might not be here, so who cares. I no longer make plans, eventually the grim reaper will do it all for me.
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Yep. That was one of my things with my garage. I’m not planning for the long haul. I just want the leak fixed. There’s stuff I’d rather do with my money than make some fabulous garage out of something that ought to be torn down anyway.
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Ditto. Whenever I hear about plans for “down the line” … like ten, twenty years from now? I say, “Right, have a go at it kids,” and move on. maybe I’ll be here. Or not. Meanwhile, today is towel day, so grab something Turkish and take on the Universe!
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That’s the way to go. I noticed when dad passed on, life takes care of itself afterwards, so why worry. I have just returned from an evening walk along the river and enjoyed every minute of it.
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