Is it possible to live independently in your dotage, right up until you die?
* Maybe, depending on how you define “independent.”
* Maybe, depending on how much cash you can fork over to an “independent living” outfit.
* Maybe, depending on how long “right up until you die” is.
Just heard from Semi-Demi-Exboyfriend, who (as you may recall) is living in Sun City, a depressing age-limited, race-limited (de facto) suburb on the west side of the Phoenix metropolitan area.
SDXB is pushing 85. He’s been in excellent health all his life and continues to take care of himself, in his own home all by himself.
New Girlfriend, we’re told, has sold her home out there and moved into an old-folkerie — these days, euphemistically called a “life-care community.” He sees the advantages, and as we speak is considering selling his nice little home in Sun City and imprisoning himself in one of those places, too.
And there are advantages. After my mother died, my father moved himself into one of those places, then called “Orangewood.” That probably was one of the best favors he could have done for himself…and for me.
For me? I didn’t have to take care of him!
- He did not at any time live in my home.
- He did as he pleased (more or less); I did as I pleased.
- Our lifestyles remained independent, to the extent that we did not interfere with each other.
- When he had his stroke (I was present at the time), medical people were right there, on the grounds, to care for him, and a medical clinic was right there to provide effective, experienced emergency care until an ambulance could carry him off to a hospital.
And that last one? It was HUGE. It meant there was no delay in obtaining experienced, knowledgeable medical care for him: right then and there.
So…is it time for me to start thinking along the Old-Folkerie lines?
Hm.
Well, quite frankly, nothing could strike me more as ANATHEMA.
No. I do not want to live in an institution. As a college student, I loathed living in the dorm. The elbow-to-elbow lifestyle just doesn’t make it for me.
So the question is…Is there a way to extend the time that I can keep living in my home until I’m totally bedridden or until I die?
In today’s America, it’s not at all clear that any such thing is possible. Unless they’re very wealthy, most young and middle-aged Americans have to work, and work full-time. That’s not an option.
This effectively limits care for the elderly either to institutional living or to hiring a full-time care-taker.
Neither of those is a very affordable option.
Nor, really, is it taking care of them yourself a desirable option. How well do you get along with your parents…seriously? How well do they get along with you? Even if you could afford to quit your job and stay h0me to care for an infirm elder (which you probably can’t…), how long do you think you could hang onto your marbles in that circumstance? Or as an old buzzard: how long do figure you can tolerate having your adult kids tell you what to do and when to do it?
Uh huh…you see what I mean, right?…
So I’ve been thinking how can I manage to take care of myself — without inflicting that care on my son — until I’m ready to make the Big Leap into the Other World?
Hmmmmm….
Let us try to explore this matter, in upcoming chapters of Funny about Money.