One of my granddaughters started middle school earlier this month. She got lost on Day 1 and ended up in the wrong English class but didn't really figure that out until half way through, so she just stayed, which I thought was super funny and so did she. We laughed together about this. She said her science teacher is really cool; she loves choir; and she "made a bunch of new friends" . She even loved the (dreaded, usually bully-laden) bus to/from school because two of her besties also ride that route. I was relieved to hear how much she was enjoying it.
All summer we talked about the transition and I listened to her resistance, fear, sort of excitement, nervousness but also happiness...you know how it goes. Something new elicits lots of emotions. I recall those first middle school (junior high where I grew up) days well. All grown up (haha) and also feeling like a lost child. So I commiserated with her and reminded her most of us survive and there would be LOTS of other kids feeling exactly the same way. She is friendly, funny, smart, and kind and she knows that about herself, so I assured her those attributes would serve her well in her new school.
When she needed encouragement, at no point did I say with shock and disgust, "How can you stand to go to school with all those other kids your same age?!? It's depressing that they are all trying to learn and grow and be silly and make mistakes and be weird and wonderful and stuck up and friendly and sick and well and have zits and are too big or too small but are also happy and sad and spend all day together every single day! Ugh! Just stay home!"
I also did not say this to my other granddaughter who is in her 3rd year of high school spending her days with hundreds of teenagers! She even seeks them out for most of her non-school hours; she wants to socialize and play sports with them! Ugh again!
Nor have I shared my disgust with my toddler grandson who spends his childcare days with screaming, laughing, crying, learning, messy, poopy, snotty non-verbal little kids who sometimes throw their toys at each other! Triple ugh!
So why, pray tell, do (some) people with whom we share our plans to one day move to a retirement community look aghast and exclaim, "Oh god, why?!? Why do you want to be surrounded by OLD people?" (Insert "lepers" for old and you get the idea of the look of shock and dismay and disgust.) Too rarely is our plan met with enthusiasm, encouragement, or reassurance that we won't get lost on Day 1 and that we will be just fine in our new home with our new friends, because, honestly, we are a little nervous about this transition too.
I wonder, why would one age-cohort, similar to any other of the ages and stages we pass through in human growth and development, be deemed "fun, exciting, awesome" at one age, but "sad, depressing, disgusting" in another? Could it be the ageism ocean we swim in? Could it be that our culture has taught us to see "old" as synonymous with Decay and Death -- the Double D we all Dread. (I guess that's three Ds.)
But what if choosing to live and thrive for as long as possible is a life-affirming, uplifting, and even fun stage of life? There are challenges at any age, but I realize growing older sometimes ups the ante. We might more often have bodies that weaken, minds that forget, tasks that take longer. So, maybe staying active and mobile is best accomplished with an aid such as a cane, a walker, a wheelchair. Is that OK? Can that be as OK as getting a pair of glasses? Can that be normal and appropriate for our age, like tricycles are for little kids? Could we be cheered on and patted on the back for taking this positive step?
Maybe staying mentally sharp is best accomplished by daily stimulation and socialization with people who know exactly how to interact with us with friendliness and dignity, just like preschool teachers do to help younger brains development to the best of their ability.
Maybe it's just fun to meet people who have had interesting lives, careers, families; lived and traveled in cool places, with whom you can share stories of a common past and be rooted in the common experience of the present.
Maybe it's just fun to have a big party where music from the 50s, 60s, and 70s is played and everyone sings along with great gusto. Just like my granddaughters do with their friends to the music they love now.
It may be possible for some to live independently in a Utopian society where elders are deeply respected, cared for by a true village of a multi-generational families, close friends, willing neighbors, skilled and readily available health care providers, home and property caretakers, and genuinely well-meaning people (even strangers) who come together to support, tend, and care for people who grow old. That's not the world I live in. Do you? If so, lucky you. Truly, lucky you. This scenario is one that can work and where you will be held in love, with appropriate care and attention, and respect.
For some, we try to do what we can to ensure we will be cared for, but not an undue burden on our adult children or other family members, and simply hope for a quick and painless demise.
Or can we look forward to a new beginning, even if it's as scary as the first day of middle school? Can we be plan-ful about our futures, whatever that best looks like for each of us (for everyone it will be different; for us it's the retirement community with a continuum of care)? Whatever it is let's stop apologizing for living, stop being embarrassed about growing older, stop feeling humiliated by our changing needs, stop thinking of old as automatically the absolute worst state of being.
Inside us lives every age we've ever been. Inside us is the 5 year old, the 12 year old, the 17 year old, the 20, 30, 40, 50, 60, 70 year old....and on and on. When we are 90 or 100 inside us will live that younger 80 year old you! Embrace them all, love them all, respect them all and don't fall for the false trope that age is a defeat.
Being alive is the greatest gift. Unwrap it with humility and awe, even on the hard days. I know of what I speak there having lived a life fraught with episodes of anxiety and depression, often overwhelmed by life itself. Sometimes I've wondered if I wanted to keep on. I'm sure those with chronic physical challenges have felt the same. And yet...
The sun rises, the moon gets full, a rose blooms, a grandbaby is born, a friend calls and gets you laughing, your favorite author publishes a new book, a good TV show is renewed, a song from your teen years comes on the radio (or Spotify) and you find yourself dancing.
And if you are lucky, you will also find a friend, or a group of friends, or a community of friends your age who can totally relate to your experience. We need each other, all of us older people. Just like gangs of young-ers see each other through life transitions, so can we.
Let's be there with bells on, raising a ruckus, saying a prayer, giving a hug, hitting the gym, going for a walk, weeping together, laughing uproariously, eating gooey desserts, even dying. Maybe especially dying. It's the final life task and we can hold space for that too. Who better to do it?
Yes, we are older. AND we can be bold. Let's live without apology and say NO to anyone who defines us as anything other than awesome.
At least, that's the view from here...©
Photo Credit: pixabay.com
