What might it be like to age gracefully? What does that even mean? Perhaps it’s like what a good friend of mine said after retiring.
“I’m completely content to just rock away on the porch with a good book.”
Did she really not feel the tug to get something done? How long did that feeling of hers really last? Regardless, I gotta say—I’m a little envious.
Or maybe aging gracefully is more along the lines of continuing to do what we’ve always done, but with minor adjustments along the way, which allow for our slowing bodies and minds. No new record-setting for downhill skiing or half-marathons for us.
But it very well could be more of an attitude adjustment, knowing ourselves well enough to age out of some behaviors while adopting new ones. For example: going for walks instead of running so much; working in the yard for two hours instead of six; taking breaks between accomplishments; and giving ourselves permission to simply get less done. But this last one, in particular, gnaws at me since there remains the same number of chores as always, if not more.
My mom had the same issue. Even after being diagnosed with a brain tumor and moving across town to my sister’s living room, she mentally struggled with not being able to take care of her own work at home. When a pipe burst and flooded her kitchen, it was all we could do to keep her from personally trying to come fix it. She complained, “It’s so frustrating for you to have to hire a plumber when I know how to fix it myself.” I felt for her.
But soon her tune changed, once she realized that her cancer was most likely terminal. My sister would see Mom first thing in the morning and notice how pissed off she seemed, as if she was angry that she was still alive. Another unbelievably difficult day, living in that limbo land.
Our dad had the opposite approach. He fought it to the very end—keeping us engaged in his futile fight against his approaching demise. When the hospice nurse strongly suggested morphine, he grudgingly allowed her to administer the smallest dose. At that point my sister and I were encouraged that we might get a brief respite from his ongoing intensity. But that was not to be, as it made him “fuzzy headed” and he hated that.
These days when my little circle of women friends get together, we talk a lot about aging. You’d think it must be our favorite topic, along with books and movies about old people. One of them says that when she loses her marbles, her family could just plug her into old reruns of The Mary Tyler Moore Show and Gilligan’s Island. After the seasons play out, they can simply start them over again since she won’t remember anyway. She still likes these now so figures that at least they might provide something vaguely familiar to her later.
Both my Aunt Lib and my husband’s step mother had the wherewithal, as well as the means, to buy into continuing care retirement communities where they were able to live out their days. When they were no longer able to care for themselves, they simply graduated from independent living to assisted living, followed by full-time nursing care. Neither one of them wanted to be a burden on their children.
Most people can’t afford this option, or don’t plan ahead effectively. There are those who struggle financially through life, owning nothing, Or, some may live close to the edge, but manage to sell their few assets in time to qualify for state funding to assist in their housing/care. And then there’s the rest of us who may or may not have long-term care policies, but, if so, wouldn’t dare touch them unless we’re sure that this will be it for us. We’re encouraged to “plan ahead”. But for what exactly? The basic questions include: How long will you live? How much money will you need to retire? When do you plan to retire? Sometimes I feel like a kindergartener trying to answer calculus problems. A crystal ball would be mighty handy.
Meanwhile, we’re still trying our best to run this ranch—complete with animals, Airbnb, property maintenance and yard work… I don’t have a pension so I guess I’m my own retirement plan. I am trying to accept being able to do less, while still trying to figure out how to get it all done. My way is probably not much in line with aging gracefully. Back in school I was used to getting good grades, but I may be letting them slip a bit lately, as I age, at least in this subject area. It’s complicated… However, good luck with your grades!
Chi Varnado has published six books including fiction, nonfiction and children’s books. They are available on www.amazon.com. Her collection of essays, Quail Mutterings, can be found on www.chivarnado.com or www.dancecentrepresents.com.