Being Honest About Being Old
My parents and grandparents (and no one else) ever warned me about getting old. Nope. My parents and grandparents wanted me to grow up big and strong so I had good food, good medical care, plenty of sleep, and all my vaccinations. Back in those days, there were no anti-vaxxers, so all kids and our parents followed the accepted science of the day and got vaccinated. Nowadays, some would call us “sheeple”.
We don’t live in those days anymore, largely due to the internet and a growing dislike for anything intellectual. Back when I was growing up smart people were revered, today they’re mocked – but let me ease your mind I am not going to wax political. Well, maybe a tad.
All my parents and grandparents – and I guess anyone else who liked me (and don’t shrug, there were a few) wanted me to be healthy, successful, and live a long life. Two out of three ain’t bad, right?
So, the other day I was talking to my youngest son (YOUNGEST I say) who is now 43 (!). He’s on his iPhone, in his new car, talking to me via his iBuds um I mean AirPods, and we’re discussing this and that.
Just about every time I talk to him I do something that no one ever did for me… not my parents, grandparents, family members, older friends, and so on…I warn him about the things he will face when he gets old like me.
For instance, when I was young (his age), toilets were always the right height. I’d sit down, do whatever, get up, wash my hands, and go about my day. Now sitting down is an adventure. It seems like my old butt’s going to land on the bathroom floor until my flabby butt hits with a thud on the darned toilet that must’ve shrunk.
Nowadays they make chairs too low. I never used to have problems getting out of chairs, but now it’s a challenge, especially if my old wrinkled behind has been sitting for a long time. It seems to me they make chairs lower these days.
Taking showers, once an everyday joy is now an every other day challenge – and no I don’t stink – if I could put a scratch and sniff strip here I would, because I know what you’re thinking.
And young people have things we never had like deodorant you can put everywhere, even down there – yes, you know what I mean. Let me see… the stuff for ladies is called “Lume” and the stuff for men is called “Mando”. The slogan for “Mando” is “Smell better naked” and I am not kidding.
You think I’m joking, don’t you? Read this…
Dr. Shannon Klingman, M.D., is the trailblazing founder who created Lume Whole Body Deodorant in 2017. Women loved it and men asked for a whole body deodorant created just for them…” Read more if you dare.
So, wanna smell better when naked ladies? You need Lume. If you’re a man and want to smell better naked, you need Mando. For me, if I want to smell better naked, I’ll take a shower (every other day). I rarely smell bad in the shower and I’m usually naked in there too.
I’m sorry, that’s disgusting, and I’m digressing…
Anyway, I’ve been a good father and I warn my sons frequently about the pit and the pendulum that is aging. The pendulum never stops swinging until they throw you in the pit or euphemistically – bury you – or in my case toast you into hunks of cinders in an oven.
I’ve warned them about the problems with my eyesight, and they’re well aware of my problems hearing – not only am I old, I played in a rock band for more than 5 years and my ears have been buzzing since. What did you say? EH?
So if you’re old like me, it’s your duty, I tells ya, to tell your sons and daughters the truth about aging. And don’t you dare sugarcoat it.
And if you’re one of those 75-year-old prevaricators who say they feel like they’re in their 50s and run 20 miles a day, I don’t believe you. Show me proof. The plastic surgery does not fool me – your insides feel and look like just about everyone else who’s reached the so-called “sunset years”.
Not to wax political again, but I take no solace in knowing I’m younger than the two men running for president of the United States of America this year. They don’t do or feel any better than I do.
And one thing I can say that neither of them can say is that I write my own stuff!
Next time we’ll talk about pickleball – that’s tennis for the elderly you know.
Thank you. I’m an 83 years, ‘Old Lady’, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed reading your story today.
I love your sense of humor.
Getting old is not funny or easy, especially if you have an infirmity of some sort or other, so I can relate.
As for the two presidential candidates, God help America.!
Me too, 82, and no growing old is not funny! Well, maybe sometimes it is huh? The toilel – been there, done that, so we bought a higher toilet rather than put the pressure on our knees. We no longer buy sofas that you sink into so that we don’t have to call emerge to send ambulance guys to get us out. When I couldn’t follow any more conversations, I finally bowed down to hearing aids even though they don’t help 100% any more. But, I do feel safer as I can now hear the fire alarm when it goes off. I have double vision in – get this – one eye only so now I have triple vision. I can still cook a meal as long as its only peanute butter. I can’t take the “rolled eyes” anymore so I’m quiet when someone else speaks. I have finally given in to “the cane” since the last three bad falls. The only gold I see is the gold that I have to fork out to doctors and pharmacists. So the Golden years are NOT what they say they are. They are ALL lying. Some say that the “alternative” is better, but there are many days now that I KNOW they are LYING!
But, now, I look up because I KNOW that GOD STILL LOVES ME MORE THAN EVER! What about you??
I am now 86 years young and agree with what you all said. When I see the obituary of a 70 year old I think but he was so young. We were blessed when my daughter moved in with us a few years ago. Hubby has severe dmentia now but I am still able to get around pretty well. just celebrate 67 years together so there are good things to remember. What would we do without memories?
Count your Blessings that you were able to “know” your Grandparents.
All 4 of my grandparents were with God already when I was born.
But I’m sure they are looking down on me and hopefully put in a few “good” words for me, and they must have because, in a few months, I will reach my 88th birthday, and I’m still using, reading, and promoting CloudEight.
Each day I spend my early morning hours (5 to 6 a.m.) in prayer and meditation, and then later in the day (8-9 a.m.) putting them together and emailing them to my friends and posting them on FB and to 5 or 6 FB groups. Just trying to spread God’s Love and letting them know that God still loves them no matter what.
God Bless you both and all those who benefit from your work.
Fr. Rich⛪🙏🙏🙏
Dear TC,
What a great article, or rather, another great article. I don’t usually write in about them, just enjoy them – but this time it really hit home.
Agent 007 had a license to kill. I have a Medicare card that gives me license to knock items off the shelf when I’m in the Supermarket and the last box of the item I want is on the top shelf, 6” back from the front edge.
It also gives me license to unashamedly ask complete strangers to help me get that last box after I finished making a mess trying to get it myself.
They say age is just a number and you’re only as old as you feel. Well, I’m 68 but feel like 86 – and I don’t mean Maxwell Smart.
In two more months I’ll be 69 (if I make it), but then I’ll probably feel like 96. And for all those who snickered at the mention of “69”, when you’re 69, the implied humor no longer applies – but like you said, “that’s disgusting” and I digress.
My car mechanic told me “once you get your Medicare card, each subsequent birthday is calculated like “dog years”, i.e. 1 year = 7 years”. You begin to age more rapidly, like when you skydive (hopefully with a parachute), and you suddenly remember you’re accelerating at 32 ft. per second/per second until…. well that’s a different article.
What I really wanted to say along is, like yourself, my dad (may he rest in peace), told me what was coming up with old age. He lived to 97, so he was an acknowledged expert on it. His doctors told him “you’re older than most old people”.
OK, to sum it all up, everything hurts all the time and getting out of bed in the morning becomes an adventure in itself.
My father explained it all to me in three simple short words: “Mart (my nickname) – it gets worse”.