Trisha and I now have to consider what will happen if Daddy outlives us both. And, of course, we wonder what will happen as we age. Neither of us will have anything like Daddy’s resources. We’re both still working, making much less than we used to.

Frankly, I don’t want to put my two children through an experience like this. What’s so crazy is that medical science is keeping people alive longer. We just won’t be able to afford to live—we’ll be a nation full of immortal poor people.

I went through a serious illness a few years ago and slept through most of 2006, living on savings and credit cards. I describe myself now as “preruined.” I’ll never be able to retire, so I’ve downsized, simplified, and learned to live with much less than I used to.

I would rather kill myself than live like Daddy is living. I’m sure I’m not the only baby boomer who jokes about replacing his 401(k) with a .357. But I certainly haven’t given up yet. I will turn sixty-five in June, and I’m busily examining brochures about medical insurance policies that supplement Medicare. I checked with AARP about long-term care insurance. I can’t afford it.

A while back, I had a talk with my son, Matthew, about what was going on with my father. I said, “If I end up like your grandfather, I want you to take me out in the backyard and shoot me.”

Matt thought about it and then said quietly, “Dad, it’s time to go to the backyard.”