TRAVELING SOLO!

 Why hasn't there been a new blog here in weeks? 

    Excuse 1) Because I did not plan ahead very well.

    Excuse 2) Because I've been battling my first cold in three years.

But before I needed to make excuses, there was an adventure that I'm about to share.  Remember the essays we were forced to write in grade school - "What I Did During My Summer Vacation?" Well, this is a report on what I'd planned to do on my vacation and what actually happened. 

After being relatively homebound for three years, I couldn't wait to get away, out of town, almost anywhere. So I seized the opportunity when I was contacted, making plans to take a cruise with old friends. It had been more than eight years since we'd cruised together and I was so looking forward to being together and reminiscing. It didn't matter where the cruise was headed.

And then, at the last minute, they canceled.

They expressed health concerns but made arrangements for me to share dinner each night with the rest of their family...whom I did not know. For the rest of the nine-day trip I would be alone.

Being an introvert, and a writer who plots in her head while staring into space for hours, I've never needed to spend 24/7 with other people. Still, I dreaded the long trip by myself to places I'd been before.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered several other delightful women traveling alone. Each of them, well over sixty-five assured me they'd been traveling alone for some time and enjoying it. The "Wicked Widows" were great fun. Sisters, they usually traveled by themselves and encouraged me to do the same. At breakfast one morning I met a retired Kentucky librarian and we talked books. For a long time. Loved it! At another breakfast, a lovely lady, originally from Germany, talked politics with me. The folks from Canada were fun and informative too. Then there was the woman from New Jersey who cruised a great deal and gave me many helpful hints.  Of course, the folks I dined with each night became special friends, graciously including me in their family meals.

Totally by accident I made new friends and had a wonderful time. And I learned. If there is somewhere I wish to go, to see, to do...I will. And I will make new friends along the way. I'll no longer worry about being alone. The travel club I joined several months ago isn't necessary any longer. 

When I arrived back home, I arrived sneezing. Because I hadn't had a cold in years (Thank you, masks!) I wasn't sure what was tickling my throat. I took a Covid test immediately but tested negative. So, I caught a cold somewhere during my travels. A small price to pay for the fun I had and the fabulous people I met on my summer vacation. Going solo.

If I can do it...you can do it. Traveling solo is just one way to enjoy adventures in aging! 

 

GRANDMA FOR SALE !

 Did you see the story of the 10-year-old English girl who put her moaning grandmother up for sale on E-Bay? This does not bode well for the rest of us grandmothers.

I, for one, rarely moan--at least under ordinary circumstances. Which may or may not keep me in good graces with my 5 granddaughters. As far as I know, none of them have attempted to put me up for sale. Yet.

According to Research America, by 2030 it's estimated that one-quarter of the U.S. population will be over sixty-five. That's a lot of grandmothers! But they won't be like the grandmothers my generation remembers.

Even today's grandparents are very unlike the grandparents of the past. You won't see many grandmothers today sporting blue hair and wearing black orthopedic shoes, totally unable to breathe in their heavily boned girdles. No, the glam Grands of today have traded up to Spanx, sneakers, and jeans. (Blue and pink streaks replacing the blue hair wash of yesterday.)

My particular generation was born before the boomers and is known as the silent generation. Better late than never, however, the Silent Generation has found its voice just in time to shout the warning -- "You are not as old as you think!"

Seventy is the new fifty.

Just when you thought it was safe to sleep until noon and do nothing more strenuous than uncork the wine bottle, a new breed of medical and social specialists comes along to burst the bubble.

Grandmothers across the country are encouraged to lather themselves in anti-aging creams, color their hair, and urged never, never to miss a day at the gym.

We live in a new era of aging...the land of Lisinopril, Simvastatin, Hydrocodone, Levothyroxine, and Amoxicillin, the top five prescription drugs as listed by AARP. Our daily plastic pill containers hold a rainbow of medications designed to keep our blood pressure, cholesterol, and any pain or infections in check. We are fortunate to have these medicines -- as well as the containers which help remind us to take them. And should we grow bored with Bingo and Skudo there are supplements to boost our flagging memory. Which may or may not work.

There is speculation that in the not-too-distant future, over 3 million Americans will reach the age of one hundred. When we reach that point, great-great-grandparents are sure to abound. And I'd wager more than a few of them will be moaning. Still, moaning or not, I suspect that grandmothers will always be treasured members of most families; treasured for their wisdom, wit, and unconditional love.

Did I mention that the grandma up for sale on E-Bay received twenty-seven bids before the bidding was shut down? Apparently, it's illegal to sell grandmothers.

Thank goodness.

TO LIVE INDEPENDENTLY OR NOT

    "Remember Mom, there's a room for you in the basement when you're ready."  This loving, well-meaning offer was delivered to Diane Keaton by one of her screen daughters in the 2018 motion picture comedy "The Book Club."

"Mom" was appalled. She and the other book club members had just discovered a new reason for living after reading, "50 Shades of Gray." Initially shocked by what they'd read, the book led the women to rediscover the joys of intimacy. They then decided to live each day to the fullest. They were certainly not ready to be consigned to the dungeon, er, basement room.

Does living in the basement apartment of your child's home or in an adjacent casita mean giving up independence? I don't think that's a given. Especially if you've developed strong family ties. (I really love my family! We enjoy each other's company.) So, I believe we can live together in harmony and still lead separate lives. If I fall down and can't get up (folks in their 80's fear falls most of all) I'll feel better knowing if I'm loud enough someone in the family will hear me and come to my rescue. I'll live in my own space a few feet away from the main home, until I cannot. Until the car keys have been taken away and I might have to depend on a ride to the grocery store or the doctor's or to my Tai Chi session. Cultures the world over have been enjoying this type of symbiotic relationship for centuries. Generations living together in peace seems close to perfect. 

No matter what our age, none of us want to give up our independence. Not ever! At least not too soon. 

We've heard it for years...age is just a number. Nonetheless, we are still influenced by whatever number we've reached in our aging process. Our children face the same dilemma - stereotype thinking. Thirty years ago aging was rapid and death came early. Not so now. We are aging slower and living longer, which means many of us do not have to relinquish our independence as early as we might have just a few years ago. Anyone of any age group can be independent as long as they are fully functioning. But your age group could tip you into a dangerous stereotype mindset. "I can't do that! For goodness sake, I'm 65 years old now! I'm pre-old!" 

Depending on your health and state of mind, age groups may overlap. You qualify as pre-old if you're in the age range from 65-74. From 70 to 79 you're middle-old and when you reach 80 and plus, well, you're very old. Like me.

Very few of us can remain totally independent in our later years but fortunately,   there are options.

Senior independent communities are popular. You buy a house or apartment and live independently and when it's time you automatically move into assisted living. From there if it's appropriate you move to a nursing home. This situation is ideal for folks who insist on living independently or have no relatives or friends in a position to help. No worries about the future as it's more or less determined the minute you sign on. These communities can be expensive and there are no refunds.

Aging at home with safety measures and new technology in place is a favorite option. Although in time it may limit social interaction and incur home health care costs. The average price for living at home is $2,545 a month.

Sometimes assisted living arrangements may be the first step and those range from $3,000 a month and up.

According to the American Council on Aging in 2022 the average price of a nursing home was $8,000 a month for a semi-private room and upwards of $9,000 for a private room. You can check out nursing home costs by state and types of care at www.seniorliving.org. 

When researching this blog I discovered "The Book Club" sequel, "The Next Chapter" will be released on Mothers' Day 2023. Same cast, same director and hopefully the same fun!

(My usual research sources include the National Council on Aging, Department of Veterans Affairs, the Senior Resources Alliance, the Senior Resources Association and Senior Living.org)

A GRAND COUGAR!

 My grandchildren call me Gigi, a sweet common grandmotherly name. But I may be a tad uncommon and though it's slightly mortifying to admit this...I possibly may be a Grand-Cougar in the making. We all know the definition of the stereotype cougar as an older woman - typically in her forties (and plus) - who seek intimate relationships with much younger men. Whether Alpha Cougars or Sweet, they are on the hunt. Or, the alternate definition of cougar - being a large, tawny-brown scary cat.

I had no idea there was such a thing as a Grand-Cougar until watching a network morning news show recently. Grand-Cougars are older than the everyday cougar. They are grandmothers and great-grandmothers, life-experienced, wise, oh-so-wise women.

Grand-Cougars "appreciate" younger male celebrities, sports figures in uniform, and other fine-looking men they might spot at the grocery store. Unfortunately, they do most of their admiring from afar and keep their reporting of such awesome sightings to other Grand-Cougars. It's a secret society, if you will, in order not to embarrass their children and grandchildren. 

Because I have been married 3 times and involved in two serious relationships, I do not trust my judgement when it comes to knowing a good man when I see one. (Well, in all honesty, I did enjoy one successful marriage out of three.) Let's just say I've taken a room in the heartbreak hotel several times. For me, it's safer by far to admire men from a distance. Which even at my age I can do. I'm not dead yet.

However, I am over eighty years old which means the available men in my age group are rare - or in hiding. And while I'm more interested in companionship than marriage, I have no choice but to look for a younger man. How to accomplish this bold mission? With hutzpa!

How is a little fib about age going to hurt anyone? Who is going to count wrinkles? Kick a stick out from under us? Demand a birth certificate?

We'll do a makeover specially designed for seventy-five year old plus women. We'll apply the model make-up, eyeliner, eye shadow, mascara, blush and bronzer. We'll add a bit of glitter to the look and purchase a few flattering outfits in our best color...at this stage in life we DO know our best color. Right?

We must have more seductive weapons than just our old twenty-year-old figure. (The curves and flat tummy were all we needed then, but this is now and chances are we haven't had those since shag carpet was in style - for the first time!)

A bit of research will tell us where the under eighty widowers and long-time, unrelenting bachelors hang out. And we will be there to start a conversation. We will demonstrate a fabulous sense of humor and flaunt our knowledge of current events. We will read all the best sellers and know by a quick taste test which is fine wine and which will rot your gut.

In other words, I'm thinking successful seduction at an advanced age means offering three absolutes...initiating a lively conversation, (or delivering an awesome pick-up line) looking your best, and exuding confidence.

It's never too late to find companionship and what could be more fun than being a Grand-Cougar?

LONGEVITY !

 A dear friend recently observed her 89th birthday. In my mind that called for a celebration. Other friends felt we should wait until her 90th birthday, but really why wait? Everyone loves a party! But no rush, some said. The argument being that we are living longer than ever. It's become common to hear of folks celebrating their 100th or even their 105th birthday.

Dan Buettner, the author of "Blue Zones" suggests longevity has to do with how we live. Buettner extensively researched the people and places with the highest longevity rates. To mention just a few...Sardinia, off the coast of Italy; Okinawa; the Seventh Day Adventists in Loma Linda, California and Costa Rica. (I'm thinking..how bad could retirement in Costa Rica be?)

What he discovered boils down to five basic principles for successful aging.

1) Have a purpose for getting out of bed in the morning. (A job, a hobby...)

2) Engage in a social life with interaction among family, friends, and neighbors.

3) East less red meat.

4) Enjoy a glass of red wine now and again. (Some of his subjects began the day with a glass of red.)

5) Exercise. (A walk around the block qualifies.)

Obviously, this formula will not work for everyone. And no one wishes to live longer than "average" without a decent quality of life. (Notice I said decent. At a certain age, we expect aches, pains and assorted body parts to wear out. Knees and hips especially.)

Major long-term studies suggest that our longevity is influenced by genetics -  25%, environment and lifestyle choices - 75%.

Life expectancy has increased to 79.05 years. Women 82.65. (These figures from the U.S. Census Bureau exclude Covid fatalities.)

The gender gap has narrowed mortality rates.

By 2034 the U.S. Census Bureau is projecting that older adults will edge out youngsters in population size. People age 65 and over will number 77.0 million, while the under 18 population will number just 76.5. By 2040 there will be an estimated 80.8 million older persons. We will be in the majority!

Although I don't plan to be here in 2040 to enjoy the majority feeling. My paternal grandmother lived to be ninety-seven years old. I remember a conversation with her when she was only ninety-five years old. At that time she confessed to being lonely. Her children, friends, and most of her family had all passed. For the first time, I realized that longevity might not be desired by everyone. There is more to living than time.

For more excellent information, Dan Buettner has researched and written extensively on the subject of longevity. "The Blue Zones Solution," and the "Blue Zones of Happiness," are also exceptional readings. 

Lastly, in any event, a case of fine red wine is on my shopping list!

POOR PLANNING

 I did not plan well for retirement.

I did not plan on losing more than half of my friends. Still, they are gone and irreplaceable.

I did not plan on outliving my investment funds. And yet. Here I am, a cautionary warning to my peers.

I did not plan on continuing to work. But apparently, I have a genetic inability to stop.

I did not plan on living alone after officially being designated as "elderly." Fortunately, I have a "new-fangled" watch that alerts my family if I've fallen and can't get up.

In my next life, I will plan better. For now, despite my poor planning, I will be happy with the friends and the life I still enjoy. 

GIGI'S VICE

 My family goddess name is GiGi and I am -- a shopaholic. Unlike Sophie Kinsella's heroine, things do not usually end well for my budget. Also, alas, I have not turned my retail addiction into best-selling novels.

While I'm not certain how or when my condition began, I'm certain that online shopping accelerated the problem. During Covid lockdown, my rush to fill the cart was not slowed by the eventual check-out. Like Scarlett told us years ago...payment for past transgressions is something we can think about tomorrow.

My grandgirls are all fashion-forward young women. No pressure on grandma, except from me and the thought of potentially embarrassinging them. And no judgement. Except from me. 

My quest to become the best-dressed geriatric brings up many questions. Among them...Is it wrong to become a fashionista after fifty? Or eighty? Do I sound shallow for caring about my appearance? For wanting to personify senior style? Am I bitter that wardrobe shopping which was once so easy and fun -- when I was tall and so thin they called me Bones -- is now a major problem? The answers might possibly be humiliating.

The bottom line...I have aged-out of fashion.

I understand that clothes do not make the man...or in this case, and more importantly, the woman. But really?

My friend Suzie recently complained that shopping has become a painful experience. Department stores and boutiques offer fashions that either scream out that we're desperately attempting to recapture our youth, or worse, declaring ourselves ancient by lunching in wrinkled rayon prints. Women over sixty, seventy and yes, eighty have a problem. It seems we can either look dowdy or we can look alike.

If I shop at one of the most popular franchises marketing to older women, I risk seeing the same thing I'm wearing walk by me on another body. If I shop the expensive line of clothing designed with flowing elegance, taste and a mature woman's body in mind, my closet will be bare.

Granted, some women possess natural flair like Maye Musk or the women Ari Seth Cohen features in his book and internet blog, Advanced Style. Or my colleague Mame.

Mame dresses with flair. Without spending millions of dollars she always looks like a million dollars. She shows no fear flaunting colors, style and fit. And we, her admiring friends, expect her to show up in daring, sometimes eccentric, ensembles. She is a walking drama, a turn-heads-kind of woman. Good friend, that she is, she has attempted to act as my stylist and dress me. But no good has come of it. I may be too stubborn or faint-hearted -- but then again, I don't wear purple.

Because I'm living on a fixed income like so many of my peers, my daughter has encouraged me to shop at discount stores. I've attempted to do that but the clothes that end up on those racks for the most part have been designed for the younger generation. The come-buy-me-labels lack fabric and therefore reveal body parts that would have me arrested. 

Why are there a plethora of fashions that make a woman of seventy with a mind of a thirty-year-old look like a one-hundred-year-old? Not only are these offerings unflattering and unfair, they're denying a growing population.

In the past I've worn mini-skirts and I've worn bell-bottoms with shaggy yarn vests. I didn't save them. I know. My bad. Those of us who've reached a certain age have seen fashion recycled again and again. 

Where is that stunning new style that transforms, disguises and flatters victims of gravity, and constantly shifting bodies? 

If you find it...let me know.