It is 9:30pm on May 23rd, 2015. It is a little bit warm tonight and I made an account of my activities on this day as I was lying in bed. It went somewhat like this:

Got up at 8.30am and said my morning prayers and the short healing prayer for the family. Got ready for breakfast; this takes almost twenty minutes, twice the time under normal health conditions. Made my usual toast and Michelle got my morning latte soon afterwards. Checked my e-mail messages and bank balances, and also read Google news and the Major League Baseball standings.

Around 10:00am I shaved and took a shower. I congratulated myself for doing this routine chore without falling in the shower as my balance is getting weaker as days go by.

Then a half hour of meditation and prayers, plus making the needed telephone calls to the doctor’s office and other friends.

Around 1:00pm had lunch with Michelle.

Played scrabble at 2:00pm and took the customary afternoon nap which usually lasts about an hour and a half.

Around 4:00pm checked my computer for messages and had V8 juice and peanuts for snack.

At 5:00pm listened to the local news, followed by the National NBC news.

At 6.00pm went for my usual half-hour walk around the block when the weather permits.

Then came my favorite program, Jeopardy, at 6:30pm. I consider it to be the only program in the current TV broadcasts that has some intellectual content and stimulation. At 7:00pm I had my evening meal.

Watched MLB Red Socks vs NY Yankees, which is my favorite match, for a half hour and then watched a show with Michelle until 9:30pm. I am in bed now.

What an exciting agenda! Not only today, but this has been my life for the past year or so with minor variations.

I am now 83 years old and I am stricken with Parkinson’s disease, diagnosed six years ago, which is debilitating me slowly day by day. My movements are limited, and I have to use my cane and even while walking inside the house. I have a hearing impairment and the hearing aid I have is functioning only marginally. I have borderline diabetes, hypertension, and a 70% blocked carotid artery, with a potential risk for a stroke. My driver’s license has been surrendered since I moved to Las Vegas and I have not driven since 2011. I am taking pills every two hours. I go out with Michelle for the shopping, and I go to the home of Carol and Randy, Vivek’s in-laws, for potlucks. I participate in one or more Baha’i function per month. To keep my hands busy, I cook an Indian snack or meal once or twice per week.

I feel that I am not useful for myself or my wife and family. I am bearing my mental and physical stress with patience and fortitude as “what cannot be cured must be endured.” That is a reality. I am ardently praying for my end to come shortly. The greatest mystery in our lives is that no one knows when the passage to the other world will come. We have already purchased a cemetery plot few miles from here.

I asked the question, “What is something useful that I can do during these remaining days of my life?” My grandchildren’s faces came onto my mental screen as a flash. I realized that I can leave behind a vignette of my life events during the past eighty-three years, while my memory bank is still clear.

This may be my only legacy for my grandchildren. They do not know anything about me or my ethnic or cultural origin, apart from knowing the fact that I am their grandfather, or “thatha” in the Tamil language. Even if they are not interested, their own children may one day eagerly read of their great-grandfather’s life out of curiosity.

Besides being useful, I thought this may also put my mind on a different plane of thought and introduce a new routine for some time instead being merely a couch potato. Everyone has a story to tell, and I have mine.

Can I truly write this story with my tremor and rigid shoulders? Yes, I can, if I commit myself to it with some discipline. I remember the days when there was no computer or word processor with a spell checker as we have today, and most of the my own publications were written using the pen and paper. Millions of books were hand written or typed using old fashioned typewriters. I feel I am better off now. Hence I begin this effort from tomorrow — one page per day until it is finished.

I wished myself good luck as I dozed off for the night.