What is age?

I don’t like my chronological age. It doesn’t remotely reflect how I see myself. It doesn’t reflect my interests in most cases. It is, however, unavoidable.

In my varied work life spending the work day with many different ages of coworkers I found I gravitate toward younger individuals. I appreciate their energy, curiosity, enthusiasm, perspective, and enjoyment of life. Working with them is fun, and I find I model my actions to theirs. The conversations are about what’s the next thing to experience. The new places to eat, the great places to go to listen to music, the crazy friends who entertain them with adventures they have, the trips they take and places they go for fun.

Conversely, when working around older humans the conversations are about doctor appointments, prescriptions, parents failing health, avoiding places new that might risk injury, paying bills, worry for adult children (the ones who are having all that fun) and fear of what is around the corner. I gravitated to the younger employees (if there were any) and escaped as soon as I could for those situations.

Can I tell you how easy it is to fall into the old foggy mentality. Instead I dream of beaches, music, boats, diving, dancing.

The past several months have been startling to me by the varied aspects of my life as aging grounds against my self perception. Literally – doctors, prescriptions, tests, treatments, looking at my reflection and thinking of how she can be that fun, silly, carefree person she was?

I’ve never wanted to get old. Each age milestone didn’t make me excited for what was next but gave me pause for what I had lost. It’s been that way my whole life. I didn’t even like my children getting older.

I see elderly people and say to myself, “I don’t want to be them,” and still I am creeping up, crawling up, flowing up, rushing up, running up on that.

So, as I get ready for another test today at 1 pm I try to push away the regret for youth lost, and think this will give the doctors the information to keep me going another good twenty years.

My Happy Place – Salt Water

Cheers!

-N

Lessons in graceful aging

My mother has always been outgoing, fun loving, and outspoken. She is a deep down Texas girl , and an over the top Arizona Wildcats fan. In fact this woman is a true sports fan. Depending on the season her TV will be showing football, basketball, baseball, softball, tennis, golf, volleyball; she knows and loves most sports.

She raised three daughters, while married to a career military man, moving from state to state, per the orders of the US Air Force. She adapted, was fearless, instilled love and family values, and made sure dad was able to do the things he needed to in his job.

She spent months on her own caring for myself and my sister Lisa while my dad was stationed in Germany. She had been very sick during her pregnancy, and after delivery had gall bladder surgery (a big deal in 1956) so they felt she should stay behind (she hated that she missed it.)

She managed, sometimes barely, during his constant TDY to Phan Rhang, Vietnam while being stationed in the Philippines at Clark Air Base. Looking back I’m not sure I would have done as well living in a foreign country alone while my husband was gone for two or three months at a time to a war zone.

Once we girls were older she always had a part time job. Whether it was working in the pro-shop at the base golf course in Misawa, Japan or as a teacher’s aide at Homer Davis School in Tucson, Arizona. She worked in the athletic department of the University of Arizona for decades, meeting countless people who would remember her whenever they saw her. There were times she was distracted with responsibilities outside of the home, and I was amazed at her energy and will to get things done.

She spent years keeping things stable for us girls while dad worked shift work at ASARCO mines. When dad was seriously injured on the job and was disabled from the injury she diligently cared for his wounds, kept up the house, babysat her grandchildren, and continued to take part time employment. I could write a book, hmm.

Now she is a sprightly 86, and her age is becoming a factor in her lifestyle.

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After my dad passed away she lived with Chuck and I, and it worked well as long as she could drive. But age related macular degeneration left her vision impaired enough she couldn’t pass a vision test so no more driving. I’ll admit we were all thankful to the DMV for that one. With my husband and I both working full time she spent many days sitting in front of the TV, talking on the phone and waiting for one of us to come home. She was getting bored and felt very lonely. Local family members would come and take her out when they could, but their situation was the same -working full time. At one point my sister and I noticed symptoms of depression, and worried her health would start failing. After a heart to heart with her about it she consented to a search for a fun place to live.

She moved into a retirement community, not assisted living which she is quick to clarify, and has done very well for several years. She was busy with the activities they offered, she made lots of friends, she could share interests with other residents, and she seemed to blossom with youth. However, in the last year we have all noticed a slowing, frequent illness, less participation, and her own acknowledgement that she is weaker. She has started using a walker giving her a bit of independence, but she is having a painful problem with one of her knees, and a related problem with her hip.

It gives me pause.

I just talked to her about the Arizona Wildcats basketball team being the Sweet Sixteen, and she is so excited about it. She recalled her years working at the local games, and wants to talk to anyone about the game. She can hold her own with the best of them. She even worked a Super Bowl in Phoenix and was interviewed on local television about her participation. The Dallas Cowboys were playing in the game, and she was and is a Dallas fan.

So…we keep watching with envy, this woman who is pushing through life with pride, determination, and joy. Go mom!

Cheers!

-N