Leaves of one of the tomato plants curled in the sun. I don’t want it to die before Adam gets it planted. Four of them are waiting in their pots by the deck ramp–red cherry, yellow cherry and two beefsteak. I called Adam. He said he’d be out early in the morning before he starts his other jobs. K took some water out and gave them a drink. Is it too little too late?
I’m curling up too, in many ways–physically, mentally, emotionally. I’m reminded of this every day in one way or another. Tonight I had another episode with the blood pressure increasing, not adequately decreased by BP med, and all the other physical symptoms that go along with the hypertension. The nausea, ear ringing, weakness, flushing, faintness. It’s very uncomfortable. And scarey. And I feel so alone.
Two weeks ago K took me to the ER. We were there for 5 hours and by the time the med team got to me, the symptoms were gone. K said I should get rid of my fear of dying, that I should be ready to die.
I’m not ready to die. I’m 84 and grateful for the longevity I’ve been given, but I’m not ready. Is any one ever? K says he is. I see myself ‘wilting.’ I feel it, see it in my body. All the changes. No one else sees, or cares. Being old is lonely. No one can understand until they’ve been there.