I know at some point in my life I will be alone. No kids, older husband, unwell brother.
I think about leaving. I know, no matter where you go, there you are, but by the same token, I could be me anywhere. Anywhere on earth.
A friend planned to move to France upon retirement, but it turned out she still has family obligations that held her at home. I don’t have those obligations.
Would I stay in the States? I wouldn’t have to. (Seriously, States, President Donald Trump?) Would I stay in a city? I think I need to be close to an MRI machine. And croissants. Would I need the English language? Well, that would certainly give my neurons a workout: learning German or Italian.
Freedom, though. Incredible.
I suppose if I’m old enough to be free of my location, I’d be old enough to want the familiar, though.
4 responses to “Where I Could Live”
That’s a serious consideration. Or maybe the opposite, depending on how independent you really can be. And how solitary. I could be solitary. I toy with the idea of living in a campervan and just moving from one pretty place to another. It won’t happen, though – by the time I’m alone, my vision won’t be good enough for that. Getting old is the pits.
Have you followed the blog at https://suebobdavis.com? Sue Bob is in a camper and recently stopped in Santa Fe for a mammogram. Not sure how old she is, exactly. One hears about elderly people opting to live on cruise ships instead of nursing homes. I wonder if it is an urban legend.
No, they really do. Old women, mostly, of course. I’ve come across a few on Silversea. As long as they’re just plain old, not sick, it’s a lovely way to be comfortable and very well looked after.
Big Dot – I hear it costs less than a nursing home. Hm. I could be an old woman without a country.