Everything Bloggy

getting old(er)

26/1/2020

I thought I'd take a look at the getting old and getting older hashtags on Instagram. You know, as you do. Because, well, I'm getting old and thought I might like some company. As you do. Or no.

Not a single photo of an old person. All young people posing and curvy and muscley (never did care for muscley), complaining about turning 40 or 30 or whatever. Putting themselves onto nonsensical hashtags just to get views. Quite frankly I was disappointed by the parade. Most looked, well, not themselves. Face-lifted actually.

I can remember reading Seventeen magazine as a teen and it all going over my head; putting on my checked woollen skirt (mum insisted on wool for the winter, she was a quality lady, I had two checked skirts) and thinking how big it made me look. A terrible (understatement) inferiority complex. Never looked anything though like these "oldies" online, all trying to get a look-see from the opposite (and these days same) gender.

I'm glad I'm over all that. Getting old is NOT for the fainthearted but I'm so glad I didn't have Instagram to prop me up in the 1960s. At my age it's fun, not a competition.

A girl of the LOVE generation? Hardly. But I sort of like to think so.

photo © Rightasrain Studios 1973

aging #8

3/8/2019

We are so glib (inside) when there is nothing wrong with us. When things start falling apart we are a shivering mass of jelly. When we are not aware of our bodies it's bliss, but that is forever changed when we encounter accident, illness. From then on we are more wary, suspicious, paranoid (or so everyone says) and self-aware. The world feels a more dangerous place.

My family (all over 70) have had a bunch of accidents (3 busted feet already this year). I broke my arm falling on concrete 3 years ago, range of movement will never return. Facing a failing body is facing our mortality.

Social media has easy answers. Those "answers" don't work for the aging. They usually involve having/setting goals, making lists, going places, being positive, communicating, loving, caring for others. All good things but for someone with dementia or waylaid by breaks etc, this doesn't always work. Memes especially are the rage.

What has set me thinking about this more than usual is the neglect in nursing homes. It's on the news and it's escalating and it's scary. I spoke with a close friend about this yesterday and we both decided it wasn't for us. But what can we do about it if it comes to others making decisions for us because we can't, our children deciding it's time to move mum on, on to a home that's not hers.

Like the Bible says, "When you were young you dressed yourself and went wherever you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go."

I'm definitely digging my heels in.

aging #7

30/7/2019

I wonder how many elderly like being looked after?

Many need to be. Fair enough. Of course.

But what is going on inside their heads? When they are woken at the crack of dawn for a shower, for medication, for getting dressed? They say nothing but are they missing their previous life? Do carers even believe they could be thinking this way? Do carers even know anything about them at all?

We as independent individuals should prize our lie-ins, that we can do whatever we like when we like if we like because we like. This includes those of us like myself, retired, nearing 70, not needing to work anymore, married but definitely not the type to jump up whenever husband needs something.

We don't have to deal with being shipped off to different hospitals and institutions, suddenly separated from our friends, suffering dementia, uprooted, saddened and deflated because of the temporariness of life. Yet. All because of a pay dispute in said nursing home. Like last month, in Australia. Insufferable jerks.

Aging is not for the fainthearted, as is quoted. Since my fall in 2015 I am not the same. I am not looking forward to further aging. The alternative is death as my mother would say, but I'm not looking forward. Period. I don't want to know. But I know. I have researched. I have even researched my own mind because there's a lot in there that doesn't have to be told, taught, touched, tampered with. It's truth, to me. I know what's ahead.

But I'm glad I know, that I've looked into it, looked into my mind and seen. That I've always, since young, known what's down there, in there, faced the darkness. I don't run away from it for more projects, more earning, more of the newest, like some I know. No, I stand and face.

Maybe I will still be standing and facing in 20 years.

Maybe standing and facing will help me when my carer says stand, time for a shower, face me face the wall.

photo © Rightasrain Studios 2015

aging #6 - "exploring death from womb to tomb"

7/6/2018

That's a quote from Dr Leah Kaminsky.

I've been reading two books - The Long Goodbye by Meghan O'Rourke (U.S. author) and We're All Going to Die by Dr Leah Kaminsky (Australian author). I found them at the library by chance, in the 155.937 section.

As I've said in an earlier blog, I was born thinking about death, terrified of it, bemused by it, fascinated with it, my artistic temperament trying to make sense of it. Year after year after year.

Kaminsky talks amongst other things about the marketing of death, how the medical profession is more about cure now than helping the dying face death. "We keep people alive, hooked up to ventilators and IV drips, pumping drugs into withered bodies to keep them going when the life force has clearly left them. Preserving the dying in ICU like living mummies, we no longer know how to let them go." She mentions how the stethoscope is being replaced with "gadgety digital LCD readouts based on some super voice recognition technology" and worries with humour that she'll be listening to someone's heart and there'll be silence because she's pressed the wrong button. The company assures that you can record and share sounds like never before, that it has power that will amaze and volume that rocks. She addresses as a GP her and our fear of death and dying. It is truly an indepth personal look, yet very uplifting.

Meghan O'Rourke finds she is unprepared for the intensity of her sorrow at her mum's death of cancer at only 55. Woven throughout with references to her relationship with her mother and the process of dying, it's also a story about resilience in the face of loss. Lyrically written, it's an eye-opening memoir.

I highly recommend both books.

photo © Rightasrain Studios 2017

aging #5

31/3/2018

I turn 67 in a few weeks. Woah, that's confronting but as my mother said "what is the alternative". Wise words. At a sisterly gathering a few weeks ago, one of my sisters said that she thinks about death every day.

I was born thinking about death. I was brought up in Calvinism so many nights I would lie in bed looking at the stars through the window wondering if Jesus would come back on the clouds to the sound of trumpets that night. And freaking out about it. Of course now I know it's all nonsense but as a child, being taught the 10 Commandments every Sunday morning at our Reformed Church was like being beaten about the head with a stick. Believe or die! So of course I wondered about the Five Points of Calvinism:

1. TOTAL DEPRAVITY
2. UNCONDITIONAL ELECTION
3. LIMITED ATONEMENT
4. IRRESISTIBLE GRACE
5. PERSEVERANCE OF THE SAINTS

So according to Calvinism, as a child I was totally depraved and sinful until rescued. God had chosen who was to be elected as a Christian and too bad if I wasn't on the list. Only if I was elected and chosen would my sins be forgiven. God would only be gracious to me if I was sovereignly chosen and only then could I not resist his grace. This was all set in concrete and God's will could not be changed, or "frustrated" as we used to say.

So now I'm an adult and what do I think about all this? I don't think about it. Ever. I'm more concerned with the now and what the hell is life all about and on the other hand being happy with my life, then not being happy, vacillating, up and down wondering about it all. I don't think any one of us is going to be on our deathbed thinking wow I did great, what's next! We are always looking for the beauty, for the spiritual. As for me, I have my antennae out all the time, twitching, sensing, wondering, loving, hating, worrying, content.

photo © Rightasrain Studios 2014

aging #4

26/11/2017

We were chatting in the kitchen this morning about our parents, how we didn't really know what they were facing in their old age. I have no regrets about how I related to my mother, right up to her death on March 2 2006 at 2.30pm. A friend this week asked what was my father like. I got all animated and was surprised how I could sum him up in a few sentences. They were like chalk and cheese, much like my marriage. She was more complicated in an extrovert way, he as an introvert hid much.

photo arrangement © Rightasrain Studios 2004

photo © Rightasrain Studios 2004

Someone once said to my father about my mother, "klaagt wel veel, he?". I said to my friends this week - we complain, not because we want to whinge but because WE WANT TO MAKE THINGS BETTER. They agreed.

And that is how I believe elderly people are often seen - as complainers, whingers, stroppy, bucking the status quo, bucking the way "old people are supposed to behave - I mean, after all, we are looking after them so they should be grateful". "Sweet little old lady" is heard often these days. But do they really know that person? And yet as I get older, I feel that frustration of a build-up of years where things I thought as a young person should be fixed by now, should be understood by now, should be addressed by now, aren't. I broke my shoulder a little over a year ago, and as an older lady was shocked at how I was mistreated - patronised, spoken down to, cajoled, literally shut up for speaking the truth about my situation. My sister (older than me) was treated rudely in hospital, mocked for "not being able to speak English properly" when she had had a mini-stroke and language was affected. Numerous medical situations confirm the trivial way the elderly are treated.

So complaining may not be such a bad way to go. Stand up for ourselves as the older generation, speak up at the risk of hearing "klaagt wel veel" ("complains quite a lot") and say "I'm not complaining. I want things to change for the better and here's why".

aging #3

1/11/2017

photo © Rightasrain Studios 2004

As I'm aging, more people around me are dying - friends, acquaintances. Thankfully, not family. Yet. I have 5 sisters, all older than me, the eldest 80. Who knows how much longer any of us will live but we (or some of us anyway) have longevity (pronounced lon-jevity not long-jevity) on our side, back a few generations. At least half of us have inherited heart defects. Our father died at 73 on a Saturday morning from two heart attacks in a row. One of my sisters said she'd been terrified at 73 that she would die that year.

I was secretary in the 1970s for a kind man who died last year. I was an accompanist in the 1970s on the piano to a singer who died in his 80s the year before. These people take my memories with them. It's true yet harsh to think my death will make way for the next generation.

Over the weekend friends visited. He already has an out-of-alignment posture, he has no idea why, and then he tripped two weeks ago, busted his hand, bashed his head in, unconscious. He is in his mid-70s and wonders what's ahead, his body caving in, doctors unable to come up with why, his mood flat. This is aging in the raw, the bare bones stuff where we come face to face with what we can and can't do. When we realise that all those trite little phrases of "you can do anything you dream" and "you can be anything you want to be" is for the young. Only.

I broke my shoulder a year ago. I'm still not out of the woods. Will it be all downhill from here?

This blog is my reality. I will not be sugar-coating. There are people who need to be heard without a pat on the back and "you'll be fine dear" or "you're so negative", "things will improve", "life will get better, you'll see".

aging #2

13/10/2017

Questions I would like asked as I age: What do you think about this, what would you do in this situation, what helped you in this area. In fact, I wouldn't mind being asked questions, period. I am an asker, I ask questions when I'm with people. The benefit is validity - I am a valid person, not invalid (read that both ways).

So I would like questions asked of me. Ok this isn't everyone's cup of tea, but it is a nice way to broach a conversation. And it shows appreciation of the elderly. What was it like in the '60s (no, not my sixties, The Sixties). What music groups did you like? How was it growing up with 6 girls in the family? Why did you love ballet so much? These questions are especially nice when asked by your kids, and luckily I do experience those precious moments from time to time.

Stories of goings-on in aged care facilities curl my hair. Close to home as well, as a family member worked in aged care. The way sons and daughters treat their aging/dying mothers and fathers, the invisibility of the invalid (the sick/the unacceptable), whichever way you want to pronounce that word, the lack of communication, the lack of questioning, the lack of interest, the lonely person sitting in their chair being talked down to by a worker in the tone of "you all right, dear?". That is not the right question.

Ask an older person a question today that's meaningful to their life. By older I mean in their 60s and upward. Try it and see their eyes light up. Unless of course they're a super private person, in which case you should be using some tact :D

aging #1

30/9/2017

So, when I was young I'd think
♡ why doesn't that old lady acknowledge me and wave
♡ why does my mum always want me to appreciate what she's done by telling me about it
♡ why do oldies whinge about the state of the world, the state of young people, where society is headed
♡ when is that old man gonna stop being so slow and get on with crossing the road
♡ when is that old lady ahead of me in the queue going to hurry up and get out of her handbag and pay for her damn groceries

Now I'm getting on, I think
♡ some appreciation, please
♡ are you blind? Hellooooo!
♡ why do they hate me saying "in my day", "when I was young", "back then"
♡ why doesn't the west appreciate the wisdom of the old
♡ why isn't aged eccentricity appreciated more
♡ why not ask us oldies what we'd do in this situation, that circumstance
♡ don't they know I can't see them to wave without my glasses on?
♡ stop questioning my occasional lack of motivation and accept I'm getting older

Next time #2 we will delve a little further into aging.
(Click on Aging in the list at right (and below on mobile) to read more blogs.)

retirement

7/8/2014

The good thing about retirement is you can finally say what you like on the internet without some future employer looking you up and taking offence at the truths you've put out there!