Small Town Therapist On Aging.

 At Mom's request putting her to rest on top of Dad.

And every part of you is blasted with antiquity.              William Shakespeare

The age of a woman doesn't mean a thing. The best tunes are played on the oldest fiddles.                                                         Sigmund Engel

A sexagenarian? At his age? I think that's disgusting!              Gracie Allen

Aging has been on my mind, literally. I will be in a simple discussion and reaching for a word that seems unattainable when suddenly it will come to me: tank top. Why is that so hard? Guess things are becoming clogged up there in the internal information highway. If that's all that was becoming clogged I truly would have no complaints.

 I do have few complaints, but the few I have suck. First, I can't hear as well as I'd like, which I  remedied with hearing aids. Then my hip is wonky and I had to have hip replacement surgery.  I am not going to mention the sagging or wrinkled parts because as an older lady friend of mine said, "at least wrinkles don't hurt," they are disappointing though.  One of my sisters and I say the we have "carp mouth".  I prefer to think that I am in the august company of Katherine Hepburn who suffered from the same malady. Did I mention being delusional at times?

One of my favorite "older fiddles" who died more than ten years ago aged with vigor and humor, my Mom. The reasons she was such a good role model are many, but narrowing it down to a few, she took risks, she took charge, and she never felt sorry for herself despite difficult circumstances.

At the age of 75 she got married and moved to Milwaukee a town she hadn't live in for more than 65 years. When her husband was irrevocably failing she sold their house, hired movers and moved him and herself into a residential care facility. It was only after he died that she confessed how truly awful the last four years of her husband's life were for her. Many, many trips to the emergency room, often in the middle of the night---in winter--- in Milwaukee. Mom never complained. I said "Mom, why didn't you tell us how bad it was?" She said, "I didn't want to worry you and this is the life I chose." I asked her "altogether, how was the marriage?" After a moment she said, "it was fine for three years but after that I realized I should have gotten a dog." 

The last year of my mom's life I got to visit her four times and each time it got harder: her body was failing. She suffered a heart attack one month after her husband died and never regained her former stamina. Being a daughter and one who wanted her to live forever as only children can conger, I had a tough but frank discussions with one of the wonderful nurses who visited with mom. "You know this heart condition is going to eventually kill her," she told me. "Of course I know that," I said prevarication leaking between my pearly whites.

 Years ago, my father who "dropped dead" at only 67 years old often told us "I don't want to suffer the indignities of old age." Dad didn't. Mom however was brave with all of the indignities of old age: the bladder not what it used to be; the inability to walk at less than a slow stroll; and more awful still, losing her balance. Due to a particularly spectacular fall onto her coffee table, Mom cut herself up so badly she had to go to my sister Trisha's house to recoup. Trisha who lived the closest of all of the six siblings was the hero of the family and cared for Mom so tenderly and graciously.

I must add that our mother was beautiful and sharp until the end. On my very last visit to see her one month prior to her death, we played Scrabble, read our books, enjoyed old movies on TMC. A highlight was witnessing, together, a glorious thunder and lightening storm in the middle of the night. During the storm, we relished the thunder that awakened us and were thrilled by the lightening illuminating the small apartment and the city below as well. My only regret is that I didn't crawl into bed with her. 

Mom was barely eating at this point with very little appetite. [ I said, "I'm thinking about a sandwich with avocado, cheese, lettuce and tomato, want one?" "Sure," she said...then proceeded to eat one quarter of the sandwich.] 

Mom, who was very modest, told me she wanted to take a shower. Of course with the questionable balance I had to be right there--- my arm ready to steady her naked self. The warm water gushed as she stood naked under the stream, she closed her eyes, raised her head to the warm water as I held her gently. I was amazed at her beauty. I remember thinking her aged body was lovely, tiny but lovely, and as soft as a baby's skin. We come into the world that way and we go out that way, if you take care of yourself.

So, I gladly accept my aging body. I try to love it as I've done with all my grandchildren: give it good food, lots of sleep, exercise in the fresh air, good friends, loving husband and family, and last but not least good thoughts every day. I am grateful beyond words for all of the people in my life and the pets I've loved and my circumstances. This grace period cannot remain as it is forever, that is the wish of my child self, but while it is here, hallelujah I rejoice. So, age is inevitable, let's dance!

susansmagicfeather copyright 2023 Susan R. Grout