My ever-shrinking world

We used to talk about the small worlds of our aging parents, but now I can see from where the lessening interest arises. As I look toward the end, I start to think about what's really important to me. But I also retreat as my voice fades. Watching Netflix requires nothing from me. No response, inattention, sometimes sleepiness and infrequent napping. Bad interpersonal behavior, but the tv doesn't mind. And except that I think I should be outside in good weather, even though I would be a brown, withered prune (more so than I am) if I were to spend more time out in the sun when I am immobile, I could watch shows for hours, and indeed do.

So where is my world? I still read the online newspaper daily, so I try to keep up to date. I revel in re-watching Downton Abbey, and have found Jane the Virgin immensely entertaining. Even Frazier and Wings stand the test of time and still make me laugh.

And I reread old correspondence. I did read the William and Mary alumni magazine cover to cover this month, and was saddened to see one of my favorite correspondents, Chris Cragg, had died in April 2015. I had to read it several times to get it to sink in. I spent an hour trying to google her but with no luck. How can a friend be dead and I had and have no knowledge of how or why? She was just two years older than me.

Dead is dead. ALS is no more "horrific" (I hate that word!) than any other disease (or other cause) that leads to death. I am going to handle this with the help of hospice and family and friends.

No whining!!