The year I officially become a senior citizen

This is that year. I turn 65 next month. The last 6 months I've been inundated with sales pitches from insurance companies seeking my business. Now that my birthday is less than a month away, I'm seriously poring through all this pile of brochures and paperwork so that I can make an informed decision. I've pretty much decided to leave Kaiser, the HMO I've been with since 1989. They were great in the beginning, especially during the whole breast cancer journey, but about 10 years ago they started cutting costs and I am not very happy with the care I'm getting (or not getting). I'd been intending to stay with them because of the convenience of having all my doctors and laboratories in one place that's less than 2 miles from where I live, but now that my MS is worsening at such a rapid pace, I realize it's time to become more proactive in my medical care and try to find some good help. It's just so confusing! I thought it would be relatively simple - just choose between AARP and Anthem and sign up for Medicare. But each entity has multiple plans and each plan has several options, and so on. You'd think they'd make it simpler for us senior citizens with dwindling mental capacities. When are we getting that health care reform??!!!

There have been some more sad events. My Uncle Howard Schaeffer died, not too long after my Aunt Anita died. As some might remember, they became surrogate parents for me after my parents died. They always made me feel I had a home with them. I stayed with them when I would visit from Paris and I visited them often in Florida after they moved there. I felt as though I belonged and was part of their family. Losing them has affected me almost more than losing my parents, although that's probably because my parents died so long ago. My cousin Joanie shared with me the eulogies she gave at their respective funerals, which I appreciated because I couldn't go myself. All my other cousins were there, flying in from various points north and west, which was a true testament to how everyone felt about them.

And then suddenly, out of the blue, Jack King died. Jack, who was always there for everyone else. He was one of Elson's oldest friends (old in the number of years they knew each other, not in age, for Jack was only one year older than I am) and was always there for us, ready with his friendship and support. I can't believe he's gone. He'd become Charlton, our son's, right hand man in Charlton's restaurant business and they spent more time together than Charlton had probably ever spent with his father. I don't know what Charlton is going to do now. My heart also breaks for Peggy, Jack's wife (I don't like to use the word "widow"). They were a great couple.

And here I am, still here, even though I never expected to live past 46 (the age of my mother when she died). I seem to be indestructible. I'm withering, though. I tire easily, have trouble walking (except for bursts of brilliance, like at Thanksgiving and also the other night walking from the BART station to Herbst Theatre). Those bursts give me hope, and that's why I want to change doctors.

The divorce is almost final. I filed the last paperwork (the default judgment) last month and if the judge doesn't object or intervene, the divorce will become final March 24th. So March is a pivotal month this year. I of course have mixed feelings. I am still not comfortable with not being at all in contact with Elson. We shared so much for over 30 years. I still think of him when I watch certain tv programs or hear certain music or read an article in the paper - I want to call him and tell him about it. Maybe later this year we can do that. I do know that he's doing well and is moving on. He has a nice apartment, a car, and even a job - working at Costco of all places. Such irony. I'm glad he's doing well. I always knew he would.

I'm still having problems accepting my being cut off from most of the Lui family. It makes no sense to me, and I go back and forth with how I feel about it. Mostly I feel abandoned. Maybe that feeling will never go away.

But I do have a wonderful life. I treasure my new friends - mainly Carla and Liza. What a difference they have made in my life. Maybe I'm being unreasonable, wanting both the old and the new. Maybe I needed to create this space for the new. Maybe that's the way it has to be, for it to work.

Speaking of work, I love my job, but there are problems connected with it. The drive is sometimes debilitating and I don't have any energy for doing anything at all once I get home. The saving grace is that the stickers on the Prius allow me to use the commuter lane, but the stickers expire in January 2011 and then what do I do. Even the stickers sometimes don't help - last Friday it took me an hour and a half to get home when normally it should take 25 minutes. It was raining quite heavily, there was flooding, and all the roads were backed up. It's going to be a rough, wet winter.

The solution is for me to first find additional work here in my neighborhood to supplement my income. As the year progresses, I can figure out what to do with my current job. I'd like to continue there as I like the people and the work, but maybe I could reduce my hours going only two days a week and at easier commute times. However, I can't reduce my hours until I find other work to supplement it. Thus my dilemma. Any suggestions? My talents are bookkeeping, administrative aide, and iTunes and iPod technical support. Not to mention comic relief!

The last subject I would like to comment on is the happiness gene. I am glad to report that I think I have one. No matter what is happening in my life, no matter how upset or distraught I might be, I can always shift immediately into happiness and delight. All it takes is a song, a movie, a play, a book, a friend, a sunset, an apple martini, a good meal, a molasses cookie baked by Carla, a childhood memory shared with my sister, a tv program, a joke in an email, a phone call, a photo of one of my grandchildren, dim sum with family, an impromptu dinner at Liza's, Edwin suddenly joining me and Carla to watch the Golden Globes, an evening with friends......I could go on and on, but the point is that it doesn't take very much to lift me out the doldrums and to have me feel joy and delight. Therefore, I have concluded that I definitely have what I call the happiness gene. And that is what got me through the last few years and enables me to still be here. I feel very lucky to have it. And I will end on that note.