Yes, aging in-and-of-itself isn't so bad, really; it's the things which can happen, especially health wise, which are more the problem. One thing I love about being retired is that I can be shamelessly self-indulgent; I don't have any specific bedtime or time that I need to be up in the morning, so if I'm reading a really good book and just can't put it down, I can keep right on with it until I do finally get so sleepy that I have to put it away and turn out the light -- at 3:00 AM or whatever! Obviously on nights when I do have something scheduled the next day, I don't stay awake half the night, I do get to bed at a sensible hour. I like the flexibility that not working provides, so that if I want to be lazy and hang out at the pool on a hot afternoon, I can do that, or if I get in the mood to do something industrious around the house, I do that.
My will is very much out of date and I know I absolutely MUST do a new one and also prepare a listing of where things are (banks, safe deposit box, key to the safe deposit box, cemetery plot, etc.), which would make things much easier for the niece who probably will be the one who has to deal with whatever my situation becomes. I have very little family, and they don't live near me; we rarely see each other but do keep in touch by email, text or phone.
I always have the best intentions but then never quite get around to following through and then some crisis such as my neighbor is experiencing catches me up short and reminds me again that I do need to be taking care of some important things, especially while I am active and still have all my faculties.....
Well, as I mentioned in another thread, your will - and sorting out your will - should take priority over everything else.
Two of my mum's siblings - highly intelligent but death denying individuals both, one of her brothers and one sister - had never made wills, and so died intestate.
In the case of my aunt, who died in January 2000, and who died childless, this meant that death certs for each of her two husbands - both of whom had predeceased her - had to be unearthed, issued and certified, as had the marriage certs and death certs of her parents, my grand-parents.
Of her two husbands, the second one, a banker who had died in 1977, had worked in Bletchley Park during the war. Everything to do with his paperwork was pretty straightforward.
Her first husband, a Flight Lieutenant in the RAF who was a pilot with Coastal Command, was killed in November 1943; I recall being stupefied that a fresh copy of his death cert had to be issued (and I recall reading it).
Her brother, - that is, my mum's brother - a clergyman, who also hadn't made a will, (and who had succumbed to dementia) may have assumed that the divine would take care of things, but he left a bit of a legal mess in his wake which took years to sort out.
The legal complications were endless before things could be sorted out; by way of contrast, each of my parents had made clear, concise wills, (as have I).
I’d have followed him and when he wasn’t looking swapped it out for a pineapple. Then dash to the register.
A her, unfortunately, a possessive her, with one of those braying accents you could cut with a knife, taking forever by way of time and attention, a possessive hand on a wallet (which lay near the sole remaining solitary aubergine), but equipped with a flexible wrist which had clear designs on the aubergine.
Reading this post, I realise that it may seem that I do not feel especially kindly towards this individual.
