ADVANCED AGE BACHELORETTES

 My invitation must have been lost in the mail. Otherwise, I would be one of those senior bachelorettes looking for love with the Golden Bachelor. Honestly, though, nice and as sweet as he can possibly be, or so the love contestants say, he’s way too young for me.

But I do believe love can come at any age even without cameras.

As a twice-divorced and widowed woman, I’ve experienced my share of the emotion. I’m living proof of hope triumphing over experience. Falling in love is great. But falling out, not so much.

I spent my professional life in broadcasting, commercial and PBS and I certainly understand the value of ratings to any network or facility. And apparently this program is bringing in the ratings (read $$$ dollars). I confess that I’ve not seen an entire program, just a snatch. Still, I get the programming concept…let’s make money! The program worked with the younger generation.

There are many of us in our golden years who are not willing to risk our precious freedom for a husband, even for fame or fortune. And then there are the others.

One more thing. Searching in a pack for love and group dates is beyond me. It’s sad…and looks more than a little desperate.

LESSONS IN LEARNING TO LET GO

“Don’t put off ‘til tomorrow what you can do today.”

This ole’ adage, which I lived by back in the day, required me to create at least one lengthy list per twenty-four hour period. I used to live by my daily to-do list, which usually included the professional and personal, and necessitated a great deal of energy to accomplish every item. Sample follows:

1) Book guests for the week of the 20th,

2) Write three promotional videos,

3) Attend meeting on and in the employee lounge,

4) Make hair appointment

5) Return four calls from vendors

Etc. etc.

 

These lists were part of my life for some 35 years. Sometimes a few items had to be moved into the next day if I ran out of time or energy, but a low energy day was a rare phenomenon. And when I finished every item in one day I felt so very productive. Which is a grand feeling.

A grand feeling that totally deserted me sometime during my 70’s.

You may have had a similar experience. It was during my 70’s that I discovered high energy days were becoming fewer and far between. There were more low energy days which meant that very few objectives might be met. And that definitely wasn’t a good feeling.

Yes, even in “retirement” I lived by my to-do lists. It took me a few minutes (months) to realize this flux in energy might have something to do with aging, or possibly medications, and I shouldn’t beat myself up. So now on a low energy day, I give myself much needed permission to watch a movie marathon or take a morning nap. (Without giving up my afternoon nap.)

In the end, aging is about letting go, slowly, of one responsibility after another. Previous control oriented persons like me have a difficult time learning this. But I’m getting there. (Except for letting go of fun. Fun may take different forms now but I’ll never abandon a chance to laugh or to claim a new adventure.)

I’ve still not given up altogether on to-do lists either. Now I have two lists…a “maybe” it’ll get done, and a “general” list.  Maybe I’ll do this today, maybe not. Hopefully, I’ll accomplish several small tasks this week. The general list covers my goals for the month. There is no daily list anymore.          When I wake up in the morning, I can usually determine if it will be a high or low energy day and then plan accordingly.

We can’t expect that the goals we had when we were thirty years old for each day, month, and year would roll right into our retirement years. That would be downright self-defeating. The thing is to enjoy the day, each day whether high energy or low.

A dear friend frequently used to quote F. Scott Fitzgerald, “Living well is the best revenge.”

Nowadays for me, sometimes living well is as simple and satisfying as letting go of the lists and enjoying a morning nap! 

OUR CHILDREN BECOME OUR PARENTS

 I recently saw a t-shirt with a message emblazoned on the front: “You can’t tell me what to do. You aren’t my daughter.”

I can relate to that. My daughter wields that kind of power. When my intelligence began the downslide, hers increased. She might even be brilliant. My daughter-in -law is the same. Together they are formidable. Perhaps nature meant it to be that way. We reach a certain age and require back-up brains. Our children…bless their hearts…provide them.

We knew it was coming. From a young age we heard the old wives tale. So it didn’t take us by surprise, this time when roles reverse and the children become the parents. Grin and bear it. If you forget the word…they will quickly supply it. If you’re shopping for clothes, they will tell you what’s in style and what you should donate from your closet. (Most of it!)  Update is one of their favorite words. But why update now?  I would rather put my money in travel and enjoy my old outdated furniture. The couch just got really comfortable.

But there you are.

It’s a bit disconcerting when your children start talking to you as if you were three years old, especially when you’ve reached a proud age of seventy-three. You feel as if your experience and knowledge should be treasured. The thing is, most likely it’s all outdated. Take heart! Your kids will gladly share with you what they first learned forty years ago…from you.

 

 

 

MY SECRET TO ESCAPING THE OBSESSION OF AGING

I fell into a funk and the only way out was the truth. Sadly. Or not.

I am what I am. I am done with pretending the old woman in the mirror is not me. While my mind tells me that I’m as much fun and as ready for adventure as I was when I was thirty-five - No. the truth is, the words adventure and fun have taken on new meanings. Adventure is going to a new hair stylist for the first time, fun is curling up with a cup of herb tea and immersing myself in a good book.  

My hair is silver, my toes are curling inward. Mysterious projectiles shoot from my mouth unexpectedly when I’m speaking. Sometimes I wobble when I walk. Strange sounds occasionally emanate from my body. Words that I know very well escape me. I stare into space waiting for them to return unless there are others in the room who jump in quickly to fill in my blanks. Obviously, my brain is not operating on all cylinders as it once did. It’s slower. But reliable. However, I am over eighty and some decline is to be expected. 

My hand shakes with a familial tremor so when I attempt to order one item online, sometimes two (or more) arrive. There are wrinkles where my skin used to be English-fair and smooth and I do believe those are jowls starting to form.

With the exception of a few variants, the aging process is alike for most of us. Aging does not make us exceptional. It only makes us privileged.

 I’ve known friends who have become preoccupied attempting to understand the aging process they are experiencing and to bond with others of like health and mind. I get that. There is comfort in belonging to a group. We want the reassurance of knowing we’re aging like our best friend Angie. Except when it becomes an obsession and we unwittingly become self-absorbed in the process. Aging being all we think about, all we research, all we care about.

My husband refused to become embroiled in health and or aging discussions. He would change the subject or leave the room. He’d rather talk about the state of the economy! And he hated politics.

Perhaps we should take let nature take its course while we direct our mind and body into living our lives the best way possible despite the challenges presented by aging. I cannot make it to Machu Picchu. I’m lucky to be able to travel to Salt Lake City. But that’s where I’ll go now and visit family. My breathing issues have required me to change my plans and revise the bucket list. Hardship? Hardly.

So how did I fall into the funk in the first place? Too much focus on aging, both the pros and cons. Mostly cons. I was researching, writing and living the subject. (Not-so-fun fact: Greatest fall risk happen at 85 years of age. Fall risk begins at age 65)

So how did I escape the obsession/depression of aging? 

By pure accident I found taking on responsibility helped me. Doing nothing in retirement years may seem like a dream but can quickly become your worst nightmare leading directly to the afore mentioned funk of depression and obsession.

I’ve taken on the responsibility of rescuing a dog. Ruby is a terrific companion and becoming devoted to her welfare has brought a positive change to my life. I’ve also signed on for volunteer work. I’ve chosen a volunteer responsibility which interests and excites me. I may not be able to contribute as many hours as I would have in younger days, but that’s acceptable and more than okay for most organizations.

These new responsibilities don’t mean a new ache or pain won’t have me venting in frustration or making a doctor visit, but a blip is a blip, a paragraph rather than a short story. I’ll take care of each new challenge (and they will come!) and move on. Simply put. The secret to overcoming aging obsession is responsibility to something or someone other than yourself.

Of course, having to face the mirror to wash my face and apply a minimum of make-up, I’ll still be forced to see what others see. Today, I see an old woman. I must acknowledge I look quite like other old women. Women I pass on the street or in the store. We may have not traveled the same path to the place we are now, but we share the same fears and challenges of aging - as well as the same beautiful natural silver hair color. A year ago I might have said I have nothing in common with these women. I am not a member of the same tribe. But now I know unequivocally that I do.

Losing our friends is devastating. Waiting to die is sad. (Especially if our bodies are not ready) Waiting for family members to make our lives interesting is tragic when we are still capable of making our own decisions and keeping focused our own journey. 

In our youth when Betty Friedan promised we could do it all, but we eventually arrived at the place where we learned we could not. We were exhausted. We started looking for balance in work, family life, romance. Now the only balance we’re after is the kind that will keep us upright, rather than on the floor. But maybe that’s just me. Taking responsibility.

I am what I am. And as the lyrics from La Cage Aux Folles add so poignantly…I am my own special creation.

Aren’t we all? And shouldn’t we be celebrating this unexpected longevity instead of falling into an aging obsession funk?

 

I'M BACK!I

 When I wrote that I was stepping away from this blog for a bit, I was thinking a few weeks - not a few months.  But. (There's always a but!) I made a move to this quiet, beautiful island, took a cruise, published a new book through The Wild Rose Press, addressed a health issue and then made time to refill the creative well.  However, I'm back! Once again I'll be focusing on the aging process with positivity, vitality and humor.  With a dose of researched reality.

Does the holiday season bring on the blues?  Sometimes feeling down sneaks in and crushes the best of us. So, several years ago I came up with six steps for avoiding the holiday blues.

1) Sing along with the most uplifting songs of the season. (Best done in the car alone, if like me you can't carry a tune.)

2) Tune out nostalgia - hide the photo albums from past holidays and special events. Also essential, avoid those toxic, pessimistic and/or perpetually angry people who wander through our lives from time to time. (Unfriend them if possible, but if they're family members, practice extreme diplomacy.)

3) Smiles! Sprinkle smiles everywhere. A simple smile brings one back to you. 

4) Practice random acts of kindness. Helping a fellow shopper find her car, treating the folks behind you in the drive-thru to a cup of coffee. Little things mean a lot.

5) The Good-Book Getaway. Find a hideaway and curl up with a book which will transport you from stress to magical places.

6) And lastly, dwelling on the past drains energy required for what IS. Live in the present! Enjoy every minute of now...and eat chocolate!

And now I'm stepping away from the blog for a few days to enjoy the holidays with family and friends. Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! And cheers for Kwanza!

If I believed in conspiracy theories, I would focus all my energies on cookies. Holiday cookies in particular. I would point out people and places and ruthlessly expose the culprits engaged in the great seasonal cookie conspiracy. 

Even now kitchens across the globe look as if they were hit by a sugar explosion. Brigades of bakers armed with cookie cutters, parchment, and spatulas camp out by ovens, big and small.  All types of delicious sweets occupy every single inch of counter space: shortbread, thumbprints, fudge, rum balls, and biscotti. It's torture by sugar and sprinkles.

As the recipient of heaping plates of home-baked sugar cookies, candy, and bread guaranteed to put ten pounds on my hips just by inhaling the savory, once-a-year scents...I am begging for mercy. Somewhere there are people who need all this sugar. But not here. Not in my home. It isn't that I don't appreciate the time and efforts of the holiday bakers -- my thoughtful friends, neighbors, and motivated Hallmark viewers -- I do.  I have a sweet tooth, but I have no willpower. So please, pass the cookie plate by me this year. 

I will appreciate your act of kindness! And, hopefully, this year I'll not have to join a weight loss program only because I yielded yet again to the great cookie conspiracy.