ROMANCE SCAM

 The Romance Scam. Those two words should never be spoken together. And yet. They are. Currently, the number one scam - especially for the elderly - statistic points to the romance scam, love for the lovelorn or whatever you’d like to call it. Worse, now victims are being used to money launder. And wow, a criminal offense (whether knowingly or not) has nothing to do with love or romance. Fortunately, we aren't elderly and we do not fall for scams. We read the fine print and listen between the lines. right?

I started thinking about scam statistics on Valentines’ Day. You can see how one thing just led to another.

And then, still absorbing this news, a network evening news program cited fifty-four million dollars lost to love.  FIFTY-FOUR MILLION DOLLARS. Another news outlet gave the figure as a billion. BILLION DOLLARS!

Women have lost and continue to lose millions of dollars to empty promises. Mostly made by me. And again, it’s men (usually men) who prey on lonely women promising love forever more. These scam artists use poetry and the words every woman longs to hear at one time in her life or another…”You are my everything.” They send “borrowed” photos of attractive men found on the internet claiming to be themselves.

Loneliness can be a mental illness and those women or men dealing with loneliness can be helped without losing a lifetime of their savings. Lonely people become prime prey for the scam artist. Women are the most abused.

For aging women, widows, or women who have been waiting all their lives for Mr. Right, romantic words mean the promise of happiness. The men, reading (or writing) these words with scripts in hand are usually communicating from a foreign country - but not always! The scam artist promises a happy ending after this amazing woman (you) they’ve found by chance on the internet, is the love of their lives. They implore you to send them enough money for surgery, enough funds for getting out of jail, paying off crooked politicians, or for a passport and plane tickets. They promise these funds will lead to your happy ending.

Wrong.

A generation of women were raised to believe life required a man and marriage. There are many who still believe life cannot be complete without love and the man/woman team concept. And having love too! So much the better! These women are especially susceptible to the romance scam.

Of course, there were, and are, always a few rogue women wondering if a man is truly necessary to the quality of life. The romance scam artists can spot these women instantly and avoid them immediately.

But honestly, does any woman hate it when a man tells them how desirable they are and how much they are loved?  What woman hates roses and poetry? No one I know!

Back in the day I wrote romance novels. There is a reason why finding love is the most popular genre. (Statistically.) The prevailing theme is love can overcome all, love heals. And it often does. Regardless of the scam artists, we all want to believe in love and the magic of true love. And we should.

Falling in love is glorious. Falling for a romance scam is not.

 

 

 

A SHORT RANT

 I'm back. An old friend was in town for a visit and I lost focus on this blog. Losing focus has nothing to do with aging, it’s been my problem since kindergarten. And visiting with old friends is always a priority. If I hadn’t been I would have been off on a rant about stereotypes. Like now.

Yes, I read an article on the local newspaper's online section. Seems a grocery store changed the location of several products and according to the the whiner, “the 60 and 70-year-old shoppers were lost.” 

What do you bet all the customers were lost?  Confusion happens with change and most of us get over it…no matter what our age. Readjusting at 30, 40 and 50 happens as a matter of life course. Oddly enough, many of the current stereotypes are based on our parents, what they looked like, what they were feeling and doing back in the 50’s, those folks who would be hundreds of years old today. The mothers who wore “housedresses,” and  dads in their bowling team shirts .

When I see these stereotypes I wonder who the creatives are who staff the advertising agencies. When I read a complaint like above I accept that the “average” person (And I hate the term! None of us are average!) may not be up to date. Still, it bothers me, so I take to the blog to rant.

Read, observe, do whatever it takes to stay current. Living in the past helps no one. Don’t be caught stereotyping. Those of us in our 60’s, 70’s and 80’s are no more lost than most.

And that ends today's rant.

 

 

THE THIRD ACT! READY?

 It’s happening! The day in which aging becomes a positive rather than a negative, applauded rather than feared. It’s here! Well, almost.

We’re living in an aging population where encountering a group of geriatric folks doesn’t mean you’ll hear, “Lock those old people in a closet, Lydia. They drool.”

Not anymore. Now we’re “cute” or “awesome.”

Of course, some cultures have always valued their elders but it’s new to us and it’s different. Our elders are giving new meaning to longevity. These amazing men and women are engaging in the Senior Olympics, the Iron Man marathon, they’re graduating from college on the Dean’s List. What’s the secret?

Does the progress in which we’re now aging speak of a new lifestyle?

What are they eating? Do I exercise enough? Is it true Marjorie Stoneman Douglas enjoyed a shot of whiskey every night before bed? Will doing the same lead me to longevity, a youthful appearance and a young-at- heart heart? Should I adopt the Blue Zones way of living? Or should I move to the Mediterranean? Is it all genetic? Do I need an aging coach?

So many questions.

As more men and women age beyond the life expectations of just a generation ago, there’s an avalanche of articles, books and essays being written and published on the subject of aging. We may not have had many role models ahead of us to show us the way but now we can discover the good, the bad, and the everything in-between as longevity increases.

I’m of the Silent Generation (1928-1945) and frankly, my role models are in short supply. (none) Frankly, I’m surprised to be here! Even to be writing this.

Dr. Louise Aronson’s 2021 book, Elderhood: Redefining Aging, Transforming Medicine, Reimaging Life has become my guide as I traverse the Third Act. This unexpected bonus of life. I’m also studying in a course entitled Neuroscience of the Aging Brain.

Hopefully, I’ll learn strategies required for establishing and maintaining well-being, resiliency and happiness at all the remaining stages and ages of life. But especially the Third Act.

Much like the third act of a play…the Third Act of our life is the resolution. This is the time and place in our lives where we look for the meaning of our lives, the legacy we wish to leave, and prepare to live a meaningful and yes, joyful existence in the upcoming decades.

Becoming a Superager may require a whole new way of thinking. According to the latest research, our brains are sharpest at eighteen years old. (I’m pretty sure mine was not. I still believed leading with your heart was better than leading with your head.) By the time we reach 80 years of age, our frontal lobe decline is at twenty-four percent. We have limits now that have to be taken into account in order to reach Third Act satisfaction. (You notice I didn’t say bliss. My frontal lobe is in decline but I still have enough wits about me.)

I have started making a list (lists are what I do.) What can I not do anymore? What can I do? Realistically, I’m basing my cannot-do’s on the loss of brain power and engine power (our body). What remains will be a substantial foundation on which to build a significant and intentional Third Act. I hope.

Awesome Superagers, the curtain is rising!

 

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY

Just a short salute to Valentine's Day from an older (and proud-to-be) woman.

 Happy Valentine’s Day to all my friends who woke up this morning and said…”Wow! Another beautiful day! And I woke up on the right side of the grass.”             Or…

“Today I’ll spread my love of life around. I won’t worry, won’t even think about my body’s aches and pains. I’ll be grateful for another day of life that I can make of what I wish. I will sing in the shower, I’ll dance on the porch!”

 Sigh. Even if you've celebrated 80 or more Valentine's Days, don't be bored or discouraged. Each day offers new possibilities.

For decades Valentine’s Day has been the day for celebrating love and romance. We all want love in our lives no matter how old we are -18 or 88. New love at 75 years old feels no different than love at 35 years old. (I know this from experience. It’s giddy and grand.)

I’ve heard many an older widow say…”No romance for me. Not at my age. I’m not going to end up as anyone’s nurse.” 

But maybe that’s a shortsighted attitude. Just maybe, in the craziness of life, one day these same women might find themselves on the reverse, the other side of the caregiver role. They might be lucky enough to have some good, loving man taking care of them, reading to them, fixing dinner for them, driving them to a doctor's appointment. Just saying, it could happen.  

If there is no love interest in your life - throw a Galantine’s Day party, just as special and perhaps even more meaningful. If a party is too much, you can always buy your own chocolate and flowers like the Miley Cyrus song popular now. Another confession coming; I buy my own flowers on occasion. (Hot tip here: When you’re allergic to roses…buy lilies.)

But family love may be the best love of all. Love your family, love your friends, love your life, Valentine’s Day and every day. 

DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT DAY IT IS?

 Does anyone know what time it is?  In the 70’s when rock music ruled, the group Boston created a hit with those lyrics and their distinct musical sound. I don’t worry about time so much anymore. My stomach warns me when it’s  breakfast, lunch and early bird dinner time. It’s the day-of-the-week that’s my problem.

What day is it?  Is it Tuesday? Wednesday? Saturday? I don’t know. I haven’t known what day it was since 2019.

This day-of-the-week confusion comes with retirement. I used to know - and sometimes dread - Monday because it was department head meeting day. Tuesday is when I met with account execs.  I could go on but won’t. It’s clear. The distinct difference is a lack of meetings. In retirement, one like-day rolls into another and feels just like the one before. It’s a sad situation.

Except when Monday is a holiday. You know it’s Monday and go to the bank only to find it’s closed. What?

Holidays are not as anticipated as when we were working for a payday. Holidays were great. An extra day off! A long weekend! The anticipation vanishes when we become retirees, however. And then, oftentimes, aargh… a holiday becomes an inconvenience. Even the ATM’s are empty.

The week following the Monday holiday becomes complicated. No one over the age of 68 starts his or her week on Tuesday. Wondering what day it is may be followed by a good cry. Confusion reigns.
         Even with a calendar in every room and on my phone, I rarely remember what day it is. Unless I make appointments. When we get involved, we also likely receive phone reminders on what day it is.

It’s physical therapy day! It’s Mahjong Monday, doctor Tuesday, Pilates Wednesday, lunch with the bowling team on Thursday and Friday a visit to the dentist. We’re on our own on the weekends.

You are not alone if you’re not sure what day it is.

Maybe Sunday?

 

MENTAL HEALTH

I originally published this blog in January. But since May is officially Mental Health Awareness month I'm republishing. May is quickly running out and the subject is too important to mention only once a year.

Is the new mental health awareness helpful to those of advanced age? Oh, yes!

Those of us living in the midst (and oftentimes mist) of the  golden years can be grateful that we live in a time when mental health struggles and solutions are at last coming out of the darkness and into the light. It’s a light for seniors shine.

Early in the days of struggling with careers and family, (circa 60’s) my longtime friend Judith and I used to fall into an occasional funk (aka depression) aggravated by a heavy dose of exhaustion. In addition, both of us being brought up in New England and having had built-in guilt drilled into our psyches, we dealt with all the issues of women during those changing times - and more. We would regularly angst about work problems, children challenges, money concerns, family conflicts, former boyfriends (the ones we should have married) and what all this bra burning really meant. We were not activist, just women determined to live life our way. (Which was not much different than a man’s way. This type of twisted (not) thinking often led to battles with male colleagues.)

In the interest of full disclosure, Judith and I did most of our angsting accompanied by a glass of scotch or a generous pour of wine…or two.   

At the time, the stigma of mental health issues was strong. Folks did not put grandma out on the front porch where her ramblings could be heard. They hid her. No one was anxious to admit to the “weakness.” inherent in requiring therapy. Especially if you were raised in New England like Judith and me. Still, being strong willed women risking a heavy case of stigma would not have let that stop us from seeking professional help…if we could have afforded therapy.

Thankfully, awareness and intelligence is close to triumphing over the stigma born of ignorance.

Judith and I found venting to one another was always helpful. Women venting to women is as old as time. Before Freud there were women sharing their secrets and fears with one another. The ability to talk to a trustworthy confidant was key to “getting ahold of ourselves.” 

A conversation of intelligence, honesty and kindness offer support. For anyone, any gender, anything, anytime. To this day. In the 60’s it was paramount. Judith and I used basic commands.

“Get ahold of yourself!” was a popular admonition as was, “Get a grip!”

 “Snap out of it,” is still a favorite to this day. If nothing else, such commands made us laugh. As if.

According to National Institute of Mental Health at least 1 in 4 older adults experience some mental disorder, the most prevalent being anxiety, depression and dementia. It’s expected due to the aging population this number will double by 2030.

Depression is the most common mental health issue with older people.  Anxiety is a close second. And dementia the most feared.

I have been an optimist all my life. My friends have even accused me of being a boring Pollyanna. But a few months ago I fell into a fairly deep depression.

Depression that hit me in waves. My attempts to talk myself out of it were unsuccessful. I was not interested in writing another book. The industry has changed so much and I felt too old to churn out as many a year as needed.

Also, I was alive longer than I’d planned. Most of my friends had passed. I was living in a new town where I knew no one except for family members. The reason I was in a new town was to be close to family. But no one wants to bother busy family unless absolutely necessary. I dwelled in a place called “alone.”  Although I was grateful for my reasonably good health and my daughter who kept urging me to “get out.”  Still, I was stuck. I took morning naps and afternoon naps. Always exhausted, I didn’t know what to do.

How do you plan a new future when you’re in your eighties? How long can any new plans or a new future, last?

I’m not certain of the time frame when my depression lifted. I believe it started when I rescued a puppy. Someone with big brown eyes and a wagging tail was depending on me. When talking to the dog was not enough, I enrolled in a lifelong learning class for some brain activity and engaging discussion. What followed was a volunteer application. Finally, an organization which could use my skills and experience.

And then, well I currently have no time to be depressed.

The CDC notes than depression, although common, is not a normal part of growing older and 80% of cases of depression are treatable. Yes, I thought my “elderly” depression was normal. I could have been feeling a lot better way more quickly had I not assumed.

Mental health awareness and treatment has come a long way in just the last twenty years. Education is readily available. Treatment methods have improved. Unfortunately, I was just too stubborn to look for help. And I didn’t know exactly what I was dealing with.

Recognizing the signs is important for getting treatment. While there are quite a few symptoms of mental disorder in aging seniors just a few cited by the National Institute of Health and NIMH include, and not necessarily in this order:

1) Change in mood, energy level or appetite

2) Feeling flat, having trouble feeling positive emotions

3) Misuse of alcohol or drugs

4) Difficulty sleeping or sleeping too much

5) Feeling angry, irritable or aggressive

6) Thoughts of death or suicide or suicide attempts

7) Misuse of alcohol or drugs

 

If you or anyone you know would like some help with a mental health issue, or if you’re ever in doubt like I was, reach out to a professional near you or call 988, the National Suicide and Crisis line.

 

 

 

BEWARE OF THE UNWRITTEN RULES

 There are unwritten rules for those of us over 65….75 years of age, and more. Many of us are probably not even aware of how minor accidents in our daily lives impact these rules. (Minor being relative) These unspoken rules are made and adhered to by our children. As we age they watch for common incidents as markers for determining our future. They are always watching. Do you wobble when you walk? I do occasionally. Big sigh here. The bottom line is we may be ready for an assisted living facility and not know it. But your children will.

Sharing these incidents - and others - might lead to dire consequences. Never, never share the following with your children.

 

1.) The accidental fire you started in the kitchen when you forgot the burner was still on. (Firefighters became involved.)

2.) The minor automobile accident. You mistook the distance and took out a power pole. Backed right into it. The old wooden pole cracked and fell. (Police and a representative from the power company paid a visit to you.)

3.) The fall you took. You stubbed a toe and subsequently just fell over your own feet. This happened on the street and was witnessed by a Good Samaritan. Therefore you were rushed by ambulance to the ER and x-rayed for a possible broken hip. (A resident and a sweet nurse put you in a wheel chair and sent you home via Uber.)

 

To safeguard your secrets you may have to change your emergency contact on any important documents. The immediate consequences of sharing any of these incidents will have your children looking to place you in a care facility because obviously you cannot live alone.

Some of the most important unwritten rules have now been written.