|Allen and Sharie Farrell, life-long sailors.|
In this, we join a long Alaskan tradition of old-timers who have lived out their lives in the backwaters.
These are characters of varying tolerance for others. Independant old cusses - male or female - they do for themselves until they can do no more. They most often live passably long and healthy lives. As their years go by, their cirque of activities contracts, their pace slows. If they've been friendly and hospitable, chances are they've made younger friends along the way who stop in once and a while, just to see how they're getting on.
Comes a day they slow to a stop.
The watery world has its share of elders whom age did not keep from the sea.
Allen and Sharie Farrell, for example, lived on a shoestring, and sailed the waters of British Columbia, without an engine right up until their deaths in ripe, old age. They were loved and supported by many, but maintained their independence afloat.
There is a clear distintion between the merely aged (who might be hale and spry; who might have become enfeebled) and the infirm (persons ill, or in some cases, disabled).
Age is not so much the issue as is enfeeblement and infirmity.
Enfeeblement - the loss of strength - is most often a long, slow decline from one's prime of life. Being slow, there is most often time to work out solutions, alternatives and compromises.
Pace may be slowed; expectations lowered. Mechanical advantage may be introduced or increased. Safety margins widened, with more time spent at anchor. Efficiency is favored, avoiding wasted motion. Forethought and planning supplant the impulsive action of youth. Physical care becomes habitual as the strength to recover from imbalances wanes. Tasks may be more often shared, or delegated, in cases of partnership or community. It takes ingenuity and persistence to keep on in the face of enfeeblement.
But, at some point in the decline of strength, enfeeblement becomes infirmity.
Infirmity - illness, a chronic condition or disability - is little different whether young or old. If it is treatable, we treat it. If not, we live with it as best we may; succumb if we cannot.
"Prior to 1920, the state of medical technology generally meant that very little could be done for many patients, and that most patients were treated in their homes." (Melissa Thomasson, Miami University)Since that time, medical advances have done much to prolong life. Some of these are accessible to us, DIY, as individuals. Others are only available through the medical establishment. Up to a certain point, we can cover the cost of medical assistance, out-of-pocket.
Beyond that point, these interventions come at a terrible price.
Debt is a form of enslavement. To prolong one's life in this manner, one must trade a portion of that life to servicing the debt incurred. This might be directly, or previously in the form of insurance premiums. While in debt, no one is free.
This is not to say the bargain may not be struck on behalf of one's self or loved ones. In many cases, the return of life outweighs life invested in covering the debt. At least we hope it does, and many have good reason to hope. Each must find their own way.
Here is ours...
Death lies in wait at the far end of age. Sooner or later, death welcomes us. This is the current of years, the concomitant of age, entropy. No insurance, no intervention, no prevention will save us from it.
Because death is coming, my life is in short supply.
Because my demand for life is high, I value my life.
Because my one precious life is precious,
I choose not to trade quality life for poor.
Because I will not trade, I accept my death.
Because I accept death, I am free to live.
Accepting death, Anke and I choose to forgo the bargain which exacts life in hope of more.
We bet our lives on health, so long as it may last... it's a bet we cannot lose.
For us, it means joining most of humanity, past and present, in living day to day. Each as fully and deeply as we can. Each day like the wheeling gulls, gleaming and golden against the onrushing dark.
Until such time as our sun fades away, and we go, gently, into that good night.
But in spite of it all I'm able to grin
When I think where my get-up has been!