Aging Parent

She couldn't leave her bed at all during the final months, but the city came to her, one person at a time, to say goodbye in the room where they'd said so many hellos.

I now consider mid-70s as "prime of life." Women in their 70s take brisk walks in cute yoga pants, work out at gyms, and go zip-lining in the Amazonian Rain Forest.

Where have they gone? And what does it mean for my kids that, apart from their grandparents, they just don't know any old people?

I spend much of my life filled with regret that I don't see the people I love as much as I'd like, and that when I'm with them I don't pay as close attention as I should. A visit with a dear friend last weekend broke that pattern.

By and large I hate aging. The wrinkles under the eyes, the graying hair, the increasingly saggy skin, the ache in the foot that I know will never really get better. Everyone knows the drill.

This is the great challenge of the generation -- not just planning for our retirements, but caring for our parents who will live well into our retirements, and supporting each other as we all embark on our unique caregiving journeys.