Covid thoughts

As I write this there have been over 117,000 deaths so far from the Covid 19 virus, so far, the US alone.   That number is staggering to me, as it surpasses all the lives lost in armed conflicts since and including the Korean Conflict up to the present day. 
Think about it, if you combine the total lives lost in armed conflict from Korea, through Vietnam, the Gulf War, Iran and Afghanistan. 
At least those are the numbers I see posted as to lives lost.  Of course those are only counting the American lives lost.  
How many families were decimated and destroyed during those other conflicts.  Not just the Americans, but those in the aforementioned countries. 
I have no idea how to even gather those figures, so I'll just focus on one group, for right now. And that is the Americans.
For every person who has died from Covid 19, a family has been left bereft.  Mothers, Fathers, Children, Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles, Nieces and Nephews, Cousins.  Every single family who have been touched by a death from this disease has lost not only a family member, but also maybe the family historian, the family comedian, the family screwup, the list can go on and on.

So many of those who died, were alone, no family, no friends were with them.  Just medical personnel, who are stretched beyond endurance to just take care of the sick, never mind the dying.  

People couldn't say their final goodbyes to loved ones, could not succor their families grief.   I can't even imagine how isolating that is.  I got to sit with my mother as she lay dying many years ago, got to say goodbye, say a final I love you.  So many children, spouses, siblings couldn't do that, and the grief has to be overwhelming.  My grief was tempered, I was able to share the ending of my mother's life with my siblings, we all were there for her and each other.  But not being able to be with a parent or child or spouse as they passed on, the grief and the ongoing guilt some feel has got to be overwhelming in the extreme. 

I don't know where we'll go from here, the pandemic seems to be ongoing, masks that could and in my opinion, should be worn in public, are not being worn.  

So many people have lost not only jobs, but businesses and livelihoods, and are on the brink or have passed the brink and are jobless and or homeless.   And there doesn't seem to be a definite end in sight. 

Just a few thoughts. 

It sucks getting older...

It sucks getting older, it really does.  
It's not the age or numbers part that bothers me, but that I am physically diminished, my mental acuity isn't as on point as it once was, my ability to see clearly, without glasses is gone.

So let me break this down a little.   

I made the comment at work last week that it really sucked getting older and was told that 'it's not a privilege accorded to everyone'.
I sat and thought about it, and thought some more and really wanted to revisit the comment with that person, but then decided I could maybe explain here.

I'm actually glad I am the age I am, for the most part.  I like the wisdom I've accumulated over the years.  A lot of the time I know when to pick a battle and when to step away.
I appreciate so much more now, than I ever did.  I know I'm getting towards the twilight of my life, if you want to be fanciful.
I'm just a few years younger than my father was when he died.  And that's a sobering thought.  I look now at my parents and try to remember what they were like when they were my age, now.
Back then, I thought they were kinda old.  Really, I did.  And in many respects, they were.  I don't feel as old as they were when they were my age, but we also live in a different time.  When you hit your sixties, you were expected to slow down, sit back, not participate in life as much.
It is different now.   I wasn't ready for a rocking chair, however much I would enjoy just sitting in one and rocking.  In fact, I was so much not ready, that at the age of 63 I started working again, in a restaurant, as a cook.

I don't work long hours, but I'm ready to put my feet up when I get home. 

However, what I started to say is that there is also a certain amount of frustration that comes along with getting older. 
I don't have the physical strength I once prided myself on, I have to ask for help, whereas once upon a time, hell would have frozen before I asked for help.
I'm shorter than everyone else at work, I think, so sometimes I have to ask for help reaching something.  However, I've been short most of my life and I'm accustomed to it.  I have workarounds that I've employed for years. Maybe I can't reach everything on the top shelf in the grocery store, but I can knock down stuff with the best of them.
 
I know my memory isn't as good as it used to be, and that is frustrating, but I've accepted it as a gradual part of aging.  When I want to use a word and can't remember it, I forgive myself, I've learned that the harder I try to remember, the longer it takes for that elusive word to be remembered.

I'm comfortable with myself now in ways I never was as a young woman, I'm accepting and forgiving of myself to an extent that still surprises me.

I'm OK with the wrinkles, the gray hair, the slightly looser skin on my body.

But it still sucks getting older when I can't do all the things I used to do.

I have to accept that I'm in a new reality now, and while it's different, it's not a bad reality, and I can live with that.