One thing I said to my guy last year that motivated him to start taking little day trips with me was this: "We won't be able to travel forever in our old age, so let's do it while we still can."
For the last week of my vacation in August we both fell ill with the flu, which we think we caught while visiting the city during my first week of vacation. We're never sick at the same time, so that was quite disconcerting. Our symptoms grew fairly severe for the first four days as well, and we spent most of the time in bed. I got up to take care of the dogs, dose us with medicine and prepare light meals, but that's all I could manage. I haven't been that sick in a long time. My recovery lagged a lot longer than has been usual for me, too.
At one point I thought, "This is how our life will be when we're too old and frail to get out and about much." That really depressed me.
Rather than keep that sadness to myself, I talked to my guy about it. We're both realistic about old age, and what we can or can't do, but we agreed becoming depressed and giving up isn't how we want to live our lives. I look forward to recovering completely from this bug so we can get back out there. Even if our trips are shorter, or closer to home, we can still travel. When we can't travel, we'll probably garden or go for walks around the neighborhood. The days left to us are what we make of them, not what they make of us.
I do understand why elderly people are more prone to depression now, I think. Makes me all the more determined to fight for my happiness.
Image Credit: 🌸♡💙♡🌸 Julita 🌸♡💙♡🌸 from Pixabay
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I don't think we've been sick since the pandemic. We were early winners of the covid giveaway. By the time we realized what had happened, we had fully recovered.
We fully expected Greg to die early, like his parents did, but he's in his 70s now and still doing well. I'm hoping he'll be around to annoy me for many more years.