This letter is a promise to my 85-year-old self. Choose safety over pride. Say yes to help. Don’t make life difficult for the kids or caregivers.
Dearest me, at 85,
Hello from an earlier chapter—less experienced, still full of plans. I can see you now with that playful twinkle, a little glam as always, baby bangs and all.
A small request from your younger self: when the kids offer advice, really listen. They love us fiercely. Sometimes their ideas feel inconvenient or a bit pushy toward our independence, but they come from care. They notice things we might miss. That perspective is gold.
Same with our doctors. We spent years building a strong body and a steady mind; this is when we honor that work. Take their guidance on medicine, food, movement, and daily habits. Treat them like partners in our health. Listening is a form of self-love.
About our stubborn streak. It helped us achieve, speak up, keep going. But at 85, please don’t let it put you at risk. If something feels unsafe, or could tip you into harm, don’t insist. We don’t have to do everything ourselves or prove anything to anyone.
Put health and safety first. Let support in — from the kids, the doctors, and anyone who shows up with a helping hand. There’s real strength in leaning on others, and wisdom in choosing well-being above all.
Now, a few simple anchors to keep life light and clear:
Daily joys list
- Morning sun by the window
- Warm tea
- Five pages of a good book
Red lines for safety
- No step stools or ladders alone
- If I feel dizzy, I sit and call
- Night lights on; phone within reach
Support circle
- Health questions: [Name + number]
- House fixes: [Name + number]
- Rides and errands: [Name + number]
Doctor notes, in plain English
- Comfort over heroics
- Clear explanations; space to decide
- Movement I enjoy beats perfect routines
Gratitude, from the heart
- To my children and siblings: thank you for showing up, even when I’m stubborn.
- To dear friends: your calls and small visits keep the day bright.
- To my husband: Thank you for being loving.
Forgive and release
- Old grudges
- The need to be right
- Comparing today to yesterday
Legacy values (my “ethical will”)
- Choose kindness
- Save before you spend
- Keep learning; ask questions
Digital life wishes
- Keep the family photos; share copies with the kids
- Archive drafts and notes
- Passwords live in the usual place: [where to find them]
Little rituals
- Sunday adobo
- “What a Wonderful World” on quiet afternoons
- A short walk on the treadmill or on the farm
Money checklist (simple)
- Pay bills on due date
- Glance through statements monthly
- For big decisions, ask [Name] to double-check
Travel and outing guardrails
- Short day trips only
- Home before dark
- If a wheelchair or cane helps, take it
When to ask for help
If I hesitate more than a minute, I call. Pride can wait.
End-of-life clarity (one page)
- Documents are in: [location]
- Health care proxy / decision-maker: [Name]
- What a “good day” looks like for me: a calm morning, light music, family nearby, no rushed procedures
And one gentle reminder for joy:
If the list feels heavy, pick one good thing and do just that. Enough for today.
Finally, plan the end-of-life details. Uncomfortable, yes, but clarity is a gift, for us and for our children. Write down what you want for care, for the farm, the estate, or even for a simple goodbye. Make your wishes clear so they’re guided by our choices, not left guessing. It’s a final act of love and kindness, the way we’d want our story to close: with dignity and grace.
Live fully. Laugh often. You are loved beyond measure.
With all my heart,
Your younger self
Partially AI generated by Gemini Nano Banana
