Old  enough to still have most of my mind, and not be in daily pain. Whatever age that is.

I've been thinking about retirement a lot lately.  And thinking about life expectancy.  All the financial models map out spending to the mid 90s, but the actuarial models say I'll be lucky to make it past 85.  There are more years behind me than I have in front of me, and I wonder why I should spend them working.  I'm 58.

Probably half of the old people I know have gotten dementia, and it doesn't look so bad for them as long as it doesn't come hand in hand with anxiety.  Who cares what reality is as long as you are content in the moment?  My MIL has these wild stories of what she has been up to whenever we visit her in her assisted living facility.  Trips to Amsterdam, visits to waterfalls where her glasses slipped off and slid down the rocks, only to disappear.  And then somebody stole her truck, only to return it to the to other side of the building.  Meanwhile, she hasn't left her floor.

Old people get lonely because everyone they know dies, so I don't know that I want to get that old.  Mid 80s is fine with me.  Unless there are huge advances in medicine and dementia treatment for the common man in the next few years, I don't see the point of very old age.  Maybe I'll feel different if I get grandkids.

To you today there is no point.  But think of the most boring activities you do in your life today.  Watching stupid shit on TV or scrolling social media.  Even during those times, when you are mentally checked out, I imagine you still find some base level of enjoyment of life.  I think dementia (as long as it's doesn't include anxiety) is similar. 

If you have anxiety though, it's torture.  There was this one woman at my MIL's rehab a couple weeks ago who kept remembering that her child died.  It was as if she was just learning the news.  She was reliving it constantly. Her wailing and sobs could be heard up and down the hallway. Please put a pillow over my face if that happens to me.