MORE CONVERSATION ON AGING

I lost another classmate this week.  I know at my age, this is to be expected.  We are approaching our 50th class reunion this September and John’s loss makes 25 known classmates that have left this earth.   In my own experience, I have come to believe the first person to die in a relationship is the lucky one.  Family intact, the healthy spouse becomes the built in care-taker, the medical advocate, insurance advocate, and family communicator.  Not an easy road being a caretaker, but it can be more scary facing aging alone.

Most of us do not plan for these times.  My own parents were a great example of this.  Living life, often pay check to pay check, not giving a thought about what the future holds as an “elderly person”, mostly because they didn’t have the resources to plan.   My Dad, who survived my mother by nine years, spent those nine years getting by, doing what most of us do when living life alone after losing a spouse, keeping busy to fight off the loneliness.

My Dad and I had a conversation shortly after my Mother died about his future.  I told him then, that I wanted him to be as independent for as long as he could and do as much as he wanted, but when the time came for him to face that moment where he knew he could no longer care for himself, to please consider moving in with Pat and I.  He did not respond and that was the entirety of our conversation.  As the oldest child and daughter, I took on the long distance role of calling him every day, morning and night (unless I knew he was traveling with his lady friend).  Over time, because of this intimacy in calls, I could hear the changes in his voice and tone, even though his words were, “I’m okay, “ often followed by his activities. 

A trip to North Carolina followed as soon as I sensed something was off with him to discover it was time for that decision.  I walked in, saw his condition and said, “Oh Pop, you know what this means?” as I saw how swollen his ankles were and how out of breath he was with any movement.  I was lucky in that he gave me no fight about moving him up North, and for the last 3 1/2 years of his life, the only thing he had to say about moving in with us was “If I had known I was going to live this long I would have waited longer before moving in with you all.”

That was the total conversation about any end of life arrangements.  I didn’t really understand it then, but now, as I stand alone after losing Patrick, I understand better what it means to face the rest of our life alone, hopefully, independent but still alone.  We don’t want to be a burden to our kids.  We don’t want to cost our kids any financial worries.  As we age, we tend to hang on to what ever we have harder…for those days when we will need it.

But we do a disservice to ourselves and our children when we avoid sitting them down and having the “senior talk.”  I know my brother and I talked about those times long before we lost our Mother and our Dad was alone.  I know my own children have had the conversation since losing their Dad, although I sometimes believe they are throwing dice to see who the loser is that will have to deal with me.  (Kidding of course!)

Next, I’ll cover options…especially when moving in with a child is not one of them.

Next time…

A CONVERSATION ON AGING

Getting old is a challenge.  Take time and  have a conversation with someone you see that is old enough to have their body begin to fail.  An honest conversation will show you that transition into old age is often scary, lonely, and physically challenging.  

When I talk with the elders here in the community, I hear things like, “I don’t want to bother the kids.  They are so busy with their life.”  “I don’t want to bother anyone.”  “I am okay. (Even when they are not.)”  Often,  the eyes on the elderly rest with caring neighbor’s who, more than anyone, are able to see up close the needs of those who have reached this stage.  

As long as health and mental abilities are good, there are no issues.  I know, at 68 almost 69, I find when I hear a comment that refers to my age as “elderly”, I often cringe inside and say quietly, “Really?  Elderly?”  Right now—today—I do not feel elderly.  Oh, I know my body tries to show me in many ways I am.  I look at my hands surprised at times at the wrinkles and brown spots that seem to multiply daily.  I only need look at my naked body in the mirror and watch what gravity is doing to those parts that use to be perky!  My hair grows grayer by the day, my body is apparently rejecting foods I use to love to eat,  my muscles are not functioning at a level they did when I was just 10 years younger.  Oh, I feel the creeping effects of age on me.

Change is the most challenging.  Especially change that comes without choice, like death or health issues that make it impossible for one to stay in a home they know.  Often in conversations with others here, I hear people plant their feet in cement, and do not want to give up what they have or where they are at in life.  A feeling that “at my age, why should I …..” and I don’t always understand this.  With many of us living 25 to 35 years beyond retirement, I don’t get how we can expect our monies to last that long.  I know that I have already been looking at alternatives for myself when the time comes that I can no longer afford to live where I am now.  I get that it could be hard if you are living in the home you raised your family in, with the hopes that you could die there too, but the reality is different.  

Often, a home large enough to raise a family in becomes a physical challenge to upkeep.  It is also not realistic to think that we will die with all the money we had at retirement in the bank.  Some of us may be lucky in that field, I expect I will not be one of them.  The moment I start losing sleep over the fact that I don’t have enough to cover my primary living expenses I hope to be able to find the wisdom to move on with grace.  

I have a friend, Martin Bayne, who I met after listening to him speak on aging on NPR radio.  He has written so eloquently on the art of aging and what we Baby Boomers are going to face in the future.  He rings a bell as loud as he can, but too many of us are too busy living and playing to take the time to listen. His blog, http://thevoiceofagingboomers.com/ is worth a look and has a large following which produces in him the hope that by the time Baby Boomers arrive they will face a different long-term care system that what he has found himself living in.   I will write more about his work later….

I’VE COME A LONG WAY

As I sit here this Saturday, not babysitting, or doing anything else for that matter, trying to recover from a short hospital visit, and a diagnosis of diverticulitis and another round of bladder infection, I realized how different this visit was as compared to the first time I went in after losing Pat.  

The first time I went in, I was more acutely aware of not having Pat, my comforter, with me.   I felt extremely vulnerable and alone.  Every question was loaded with reminders of my new station in life.  But this time the experience was totally different.

When the fever and pain told me this was something different and needed attention, I called the doctor’s office and got the direction to go to the ER.  I was calm through the whole thing…in pain…but calm.  I knew I could always call 911.  When a neighbor heard that I was having issues they offered to drive me, too.  I decided to call my daughter who worked nearby and let her know I was heading over to the ER  and she responded with, “I’ll be right there.”  

I let her come and off we went.  At the hospital, the questions no longer were slaps in the face…single married or widowed.  I am what I am. A widow.

I even sent my daughter home with an “I’ll call when they are ready to release me.  Go home and rest until I am ready to go.”  And, “don’t let your brother’s know until I know what is going on.  If they tell me I have the bunga-bunga disease and have a short time to live you can call and get their butts here.”  We laughed and said good-bye.  She would have stayed if I wanted her to.

That was enough for me.  Just knowing that if I really needed someone, there would be someone there.  I know in my heart, if I had called any of the kids, they would of come.

I realize, sitting here today, how far I have come in my journey of learning to live life as a single person.  I am strong, independent and find pleasure in answering only to me at times.  Oh, that does not mean that things are perfect yet.  I still find those moments when I wish I had that hug, those cuddle moments…but you know when you can’t…you have to let go.  This latest experience told me I am okay.  

IT ALL HAS TO END SOMETIME

It’s almost over.  My two weeks at the shore.  This elongated stay is a first for me and I have enjoyed every day!  The smell of the sea air, the sounds of the roaring waves, and the sand….well maybe the sand is not so much fun, but I honestly have enjoyed my time here.  The sense that the whole world is on vacation fills every moment allowing one to relax at will.  

I am not a sun-loving sand sitter, but I do love to walk the beach in the morning and at night.  It’s the sound, the smell and the feeling of being here that I love.  So many memories flood me—-especially remembering the first time Pat brought me to Ocean City, New Jersey.  I was born and raised in Illinois so there was Lake Michigan, but an ocean and a lake, no matter the size, cannot be compared.  

From the moment I drive across the causeway to the smell of the sea air, a smile, fills my soul and will not leave until I leave later this morning to return home.

A phenomena occurred while I was here…every time i have come to the ocean, I do what thousands of others do and go shell and stone searching.  Looking for the treasure mother nature offers up.  Especially conch shells.  Time and again I would come down and find no conch.  Last year, while the family was here, Lauren and Meredith found a couple of shells and the search became more intense.  No matter how many an early morning or evening walks I could find none.

Well, some secret door must have opened after my 6-year-old granddaughter, along with her Dad and other family members found 22 conches on the beach.  Every walk on the beach since that day has been a discovery of not just one conch, but many.  Yesterday during my 12,000 step walk I found many.  It was like they were jumping up and saying, “look…look…look, here I am!”  I guess, like anything else out in the universe, once you know what to look for, you see it all around you.

I return home, with a bounty of memories, a sense of renewal and energy to tackle whatever comes my way next.

CUSTOMER SERVICE IS WORTH THE CALL

Pat and I  worked hard for our money as most of us do.  From early on in my life, I would get annoyed that a product purchased would not live up to the advertised promise.  Especially items I purchased for my children.  

Pat and I had four children in 4 1/2 years.  Money was tight, and Pat especially worked hard for what we did have, so that made me all the more frugal when it came to spending it.  I took great care at Christmas to pick out one “good” toy for each of the four, which meant I looked for the best quality I could afford.  Nothing got me riled up as much as a toy, built for a kid, not holding up to the normal play that kids do.

So early on, if a product did not hold up, I would call customer care and complain, or write a letter and before I knew it, a new item to replace the one broken was very often sent on its way.  This was a privilege I never abused, but when I did have to call, I also never felt bad about calling.

The biggest return came once when twisting a bottle cap off a coke bottle, the metal tore in such a way that I cut my thumb.  I called customer service to just let them know about the issue, more as a curtesy call than a complaint.  Before I knew it, they sent me a couple of coupons for some additional coke product.  Then one day I got a call from a service representative from Coke.  Was asking if he could come for a visit regarding my call to them.  

Upon arriving, we sat down and talked, he looked at the scar now formed on my thumb and we talked about the how and why’s of what could have happened.  Before he left, I was gifted with a couple of rubber bottle openers, some more coupons and a whole case of bottled coke.

This 4th of July weekend I found myself in another disappointing product moment.  I had bought four 1-pound packages of Dietz and Watson Hotdogs.  A product I buy all the time with great satisfaction.  But on this day, when we cooked them on the grill, it was obvious something was wrong when a slime appeared on the cooked dog.  No one would eat them.  There was one additional package left in the freezer.  I decided to call customer service and let them know something was wrong with this batch as the expiration date was not to be until July 18, 2015.  After a short conversation, some code numbers exchanged, they offered to send me coupons to replace those that I bought.  A thank you both ways, and we hung up.

Once again, I say to you all…if you are not satisfied with a product, call or write.  Contacting customer service is worth the call!