Picture of Health

This is Uncle Andy, he's 92.
Andy worked on the land for all his life from the age of 14. When he retired he moved out to the coast at Filey and was soon a regular sight on his daily 3-6 mile walks around the town - stopping at a different cafe each day - so regular for the next twenty years in fact that cafe staff would become concerned and go looking for him on the odd days when he didn't arrive.
Now in a ALF Andy remains a picture of vigour and vitality - his handshake leaves you wriggling your fingers to check they work - when we arrived to visit he literally jumped out of his chair to greet us - there was a moment of clear air all around him as he sprung upwards. Sadly however Andy is now well into the early stages of Altzhiemer's - his short term memory is totally gone - he'll have utterly forgotten our lunch together by the time friend's visit him for tea. Conversation now has to be totally of the moment - with occasional interjections from the long distant past - but most often he just wants to sit in peaceful silence.

I've often said that if my body were to fail me drastically I'd struggle to go on - I'm not Stephen Hawkin and its not a life I can ever invisage me wanting to live - as a climber and mountaineer I've mostly measured myself by my physical achievements  - seeing Andy so childlike and confused, whilst at the same time happy and physically (at least) in fine fettle - it makes me question my own definitions of what can measure a life worth living. I'll never know if Andy would trade that fine handshake and long stride for more mental acuity or if he's at peace  living in the absolute now and distant past - but it may well be a prospect that awaits many of us in our own futures.