Every day, I’m more of a stereotypical little old lady. I’m 5’2” and shrinking; I have two cats; and I grow more curmudgeonly by the news cycle. I have neither spouse nor children.
In one way or another, I’ve been an educator all my life, so when I started informing myself about aging, it seemed natural to inform others as well, especially when it became clear that the world of aging isn’t designed for self-navigation, and that family caregivers are assumed, implicitly if not explicitly, in almost everything available. I originally planned to write a book and the site has a decidedly bookish tone.
I’m neither a geriatrician nor a gerontologist – my knowledge of aging is idiosyncratic and personal. I was spared the caregiver experience because neither of my parents needed long-term care before they died. Like many Americans, I’ve been insulated from the infirmities of old age.
I’m not without family entirely. I have one sister (slightly younger) and 14 living first cousins. But I’m only in communication with a few of my cousins, and then sporadically. Though we have regular phone conversations, I haven’t seen my sister in many years. There’s zero likelihood of our being advocates for each other in old age.
I’ve lived in Tucson, AZ since 1982. I grew up in Brooklyn, New York (before it was fashionable), went to college in New Mexico and graduate school in Massachusetts. I also spent some years in Texas and Guatemala before moving to Tucson. I consider myself a Southwesterner.