Wednesday, January 3, 2024

A HAPPY NEW 2024 YEAR!

 I’ve never been one for making New Year’s resolutions but I usually set goals and do a good bit of reflection on the past year and what the future might hold. Dressed in my flannel jammies, curled up with a hot cocoa and my faithful dog Charlie by my side, this year I watched the celebrations on television from afar, safe and warm.

I’m an optimist and I look forward to the promise in a new year, the surprises certainly in store, and the new beginnings - in my case mostly the opening hook of a new novel work. I write humor because I believe laughter gets us through the rough patches.

The year 2023 was different for me because I did not set a goal, spend time in reflection nor make a resolution. I did attempt to create a vision board for the first time, a project which ended after two items were pasted on the empty board. I may return to it sometime in ’24.

Early last year I sold my house and moved to Fernandina Beach as a renter. The blue bungalow just screamed writer’s cottage. Inspiration was sure to follow - but wait. Not yet.

I can hear the ocean from my porch. A most wonderful and familiar sound from my childhood. I was not forced at gunpoint but rather encouraged to make the move to follow my daughter and the rest of the family. You cannot be over 65 years of age and live an hour away or more from your children. There’s a rule. (I’ll be blogging about the complete list of rules soon.)

It took me longer than usual to settle into my new home and hometown. But I did finish edits on a book that was subsequently released by the publisher in September and in the fall I attended a six-week lifelong learning course on the future of humankind and learned AI will be writing my books before long. Still, loved the discussions, the information on climate control, electric vehicles, and in general the amazing future if we stay calm and do not hurt each other. (Meaning no more wars) I’ll be taking more classes and continuing to be a volunteer for the Heritage Keepers Project. (Deja vue to my broadcast days.)

It’s been a long time since I’ve entertained but I hosted dinner for the family on Christmas day. There were almost a dozen people who came to dinner in the little blue bungalow. A cozy but cool afternoon and evening. I might have been a bit tired the next day, but I survived.

Did I mention my editor left the publishing company I was with? No? Well, there may be suspicions out there, but honestly, I did not run her off with this last book. “Murder at the Blue Oyster Grill” has had excellent reviews!

And then there were the inevitable heartbreaking losses during 2023, including friends who cannot be replaced. Grief. Old and new set in, in 2023. As I imagine it will in 2024. It’s life.

New Year’s Eve, 2024 has passed. I did not set new goals and only briefly reflected on the past and future.

I’ve been thinking about writing new blogs on the adventures of aging and perhaps a new fiction novel dedicated to providing fun and entertainment to my readers. Perhaps a new editor and publisher are in my future. A new website may be involved. And I’ll be investigating new travel adventures. Because that’s what I’ve always done. These things make me happy. They are what and who I am: a mother, grand-mother, great-grandmother, friend, former broadcaster, and a writer thankful for the gift.

My hope is that you will find your happiness in the new year. Be kind, be safe, be well. Most of all, welcome laughter into your life.

And have a very Happy New Year!

 

 

Saturday, December 9, 2023

A NEW LOOK AT LONGETIVITY

 I have just received my degree as a certified futurist thanks to a wonderful lifelong learning course. A six-week course that sent me on a path to thinking about and researching longevity in the last few weeks. The impact may be even greater than the change. Are you ready?

According to the CDC, currently the average life span in the U.S. today is 77.5 years. Yet more and more people living are to 100 years and more, and what are we to do with the prediction that living to an active 125 years will soon be attainable. If you’re eager to live that long.

Frankly, I’m not. I am already twenty-four years past my expiration date and often feel, well, tired. I’ve put two careers behind me and now it looks as if I’ll need a third. (Of course, once you reach a certain age, you can’t plan too far in advance. A new five-year business plan might be out of the question.) Still.

Globally, the World Health Organization, WHO, predicts that by 2050 the population aged 60 years or more will double, while those aged 80 years or more will number 400 million persons. This extension of the lifespan is looked upon as a triumph of medical advances stemming from access to better treatments as well as a focus on preventive therapies.  

So I’m asking…is 80 fast becoming the new 70 in human years?

You’ll notice I have more questions than answers.

Longevity has been attributed to DNA, a positive attitude, a Blue Zone lifestyle - work, a plant based diet, red wine - and socialization. So-called, super-agers also may experience a metabolic slowdown, a slowdown of the aging process…which includes the brain. (Apparently Henry Kissinger at 100 years of age was still serving as a consultant on foreign affairs just before he passed.) But apparently one size does not fit all. One book on how to live longer does not apply to everyone.

Are we interested in longevity because we fear the alternative?

We do know that heart disease and cancer are the two most common causes of death at any age. Both are subjects to ongoing research with increasing positive survival rates. Some speculate specific targeting will eradicate cancer altogether in the near future. It’s already being done with varying degrees of success for different types of the disease. Early detection whether by chance or testing is the very best option.

Genome editing (changing the DNA of a cell or organism) holds great promise for cancer and a variety of diseases. Like AI, however, Genome editing carries a multitude of ethical concerns.

AI has taken its place in operating rooms. Over the last six years, I have had OR robots perform two quite different and successful surgeries on me - with the assistance of talented surgeons.

So, yes, I think we should fear AI and also be very grateful.

The medical community has already made great advancements in the skeletal department. We are fortunate to have an array of replacement parts…hip, knee, arms, elbows, etc. (And there are parts you can live quite nicely without, like the appendix.)

So many advancements have been made in the last fifty years; imagine what the next fifty will bring!  A cure for the common cold?

And then if you’re feeling young and great, the next step is clear.

Cosmetic surgery can completely transform the human body, removing years of wear and tear. A boom for the anti-aging population - mostly women. Although, I wonder why thirty year old women are subjecting to Botox injections on a regular basis. I don’t understand the big lips either, fish lips…rather resemble grouper lips. But perhaps with whatever procedures you choose, you’ll be able to look more like a 95 year old when you’re 125.

Is that a good thing?

When I did a small informal poll asking if folks would like to live to 125 most said yes as long as they enjoyed a good quality of life. Quality of life is soo subjective. And chancy!

The eldest in many cultures are revered for their wisdom which is a good thing. But what if in this new age of aging, the information you possessed at 100 years was irrelevant by the time you were 125? What then will you offer? (Just gives me goose bumps!)

One of my friends once told me, “I’m not afraid to die. I just don’t want to miss anything.”

And there’s that.

 

 

Sunday, December 3, 2023

MY TRUTH

 I recently fell into a funk, unusual for this positive thinker, and the only way out was the truth. Sadly. Or not. So this is my truth.

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, 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 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 sometimes 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 that 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 I’m over eighty and a 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. Advanced aging (85 years plus) does not make us exceptional. It only makes us privileged. Admit it, super-ager has a nice ring!

 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 a certain 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. (Or anti-aging, but that’s a whole different bucket of worms and a three or four page essay.)

My late 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 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. Alas! I cannot visit Machu Picchu any longer. 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. So how did I escape the obsession/depression of aging? 

By pure accident I’ve 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 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. You may not be able to make a five year plan in good conscious but making a plan for today is totally reasonable. It’s called living in the present.

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. I am an old woman. I must acknowledge I look quite like other old women. Women I pass on the street. 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 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 unequivocably 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 focused on our 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, and 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?

 

 

Monday, October 23, 2023

UNFIT WOMAN

 I am not fit. I am unabashedly, unashamedly, unfit. I am seriously out of shape. When I drop something the thought of bending down to pick the item up traumatizes me. If I bend down I may not be able to straighten up. I may end up on the floor. Stuck. Frozen in time. If the blood hasn’t rushed to my head and I’m still conscious, I may be wondering where my cell phone is. (That’s another problem for another day, forgetting my cell phone, my connection with the world. People who live alone should always have their cell phone with them. I’m told.)

Obviously, the solution to this problem is simple. Start exercising. The Council on Aging always has different exercise workouts in their programs. Every city, town and the internet boast different exercise classes. Personal trainers abound. There’s no excuse for my lack of fitness.

In my fifties I walked…everyday, rain or shine for at least two miles. In my sixties, I did aerobics with a friend. We liked the music. But when that changed. Well, since my seventies I’ve been remiss.

Although, I’ve been to Tai Chi for six sessions. And I also attended one balance class. The thing is I get bored too easily. That may be because I have a bit of undiagnosed AADD - Adult Attention Deficit Disorder. My attention wanders. I’d rather be writing. Or reading.

But I’m not one for giving up. I usually circle the challenge for a few days, or weeks, before narrowing down on a solution. 

So I have resolved to join the masses and become more fit. Some who think I may be too old to start now (into my 80’s) will have to acknowledge exercise is the very best thing for one’s health no matter how old. It’s number one. So, I am going to buy a cute little exercise outfit and start at home with chair/couch yoga. Soon. Wish me luck!

 

 

Friday, October 13, 2023

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.

Friday, October 6, 2023

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! 

Saturday, September 23, 2023

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.

 

 

 

THE SOUNDS AND SPILLS of AGING

  There should have been alarm bells. But no. There were no five alarm warnings. We were never warned about the sounds of aging. However the...