Elderhood: Forewarned is Forearmed
About twenty years ago I was called to visit my aunt, who had cancer and wasn’t expected to survive, and she said, “It is alright if I die. I have had a long and fulfilling life.” She ended up beating that cancer and, when she turned 80 last summer she said, “What was I thinking? At 60 I was still young, and I didn’t realize that I had many fulfilling years ahead of me. Being a grandparent became the best part of my life!” It is comforting to think that my aunt considered 60 to be young since I am only two years away from reaching that age.
According to a book that I have just finished reading, there are three age-based subgroupings: childhood, adulthood, elderhood. The final category, elderhood, is the final thirty years of our lives. As I approach elderhood I have learned that the key to successful aging is to approach it with the same shameless ambition accorded to childhood and adulthood. My personal philosophy is to shoot for being an exceptional senior. That means that I want to continue to do the triathlons, only at shorter distances, and I will keep working. I want to be as low maintenance as I can be until I can’t live without assistance. If I can give my life meaning and purpose, all the while keeping my perspective and self-respect, then I will consider myself to be an exceptional senior.
Elderhood is the climax of a lifetime spent building a bank account and raising children; now is the time for resolution. If adulthood is filled with the stress that accompanies work and family life, elderhood sees a rise in contentment, wisdom, and agency. Since Tracey and I have been blessed with good health and financial resources, the options for us are unlimited. Our lives can evolve into a new form. We could quit our jobs and move to the Fontainebleau in Miami. If we became bored with our lives of leisure, then we could volunteer. If retirement didn’t agree with us, then Tracey and I could unretire. About 40 percent of Americans begin an encore career because retirement brings on a lack of purpose, a lack of social engagement, and a lack of needed income. What scares me the most is that I will feel a loss of self-worth so I doubt that I will ever fully retire.
Elderhood can be broken up into two distinct age groups; the young-old who are in their 60s and 70s, and the old-old who are in their 80s and 90s. Tracey and I are about ready to enter the young-old stage. The good thing about being in our 60s and 70s is that we have not taken up permanent residency in old age. We are the young-old but feel like we are in our 40s. Of course, there are physical challenges that go along with being older: hair loss, weight gain, wrinkles, graying, and general weakness. Degradations also include hearing loss and vision loss. As we get older, we are more concerned with mobility and remaining independent, while the vanities of physical appearance and social recognition become less important. That is probably for the best since the young-old have become invisible to our youth-obsessed society.
One of the good things about being at the tail end of the Baby Boomer generation is that is that there is silver tsunami of 40 million people aged 65 or older. These folks who have started elderhood right before Tracey and I and they can help to shine the light on successful aging.
The final stage of life, the old-old, begins somewhere in our 80s, and will eventually take the steep downward plunge towards death. Our main goal is to remain independent, but that goal becomes harder and harder to achieve as we face more and more challenges. The physical challenges that we will face in our 80s are a compressed torso, humped back, losing teeth, constipation, high blood pressure, heartburn, and obesity. The loathsome expanse of the years begins to catch up with us as we have trouble with the simplest acts, like standing up, because we suffer from a loss of balance and weakness. Depression can set in because by the time that we are old-old, we will have to give up on a lifetime of gainful employment. Driving a car can become problematic and there will be grieving at this loss of freedom. Growing old isn’t a battle, it is a massacre.
The old-old face many mental challenges including managing finances, handling medications, and such mundane chores as shopping, cooking, and cleaning. They worry about who will take care of them when they are no longer able to take care of themselves. The secret to aging well is to have good genes, good luck, enough money, and one good kid. Usually a daughter. Ultimately, however, the hard fact is that 60% of Americans die in an acute care hospital, 20% die in a nursing home, and the last 20% die at home. To make matters worse, more than one third of all people over the age of 85 have dementia. No one will get away unscathed and the old-old suffer from a sense of fatalism and a general loss of interest. The last thing that I want to do is to become a burden to my family; a problem to be solved.
My final wish will be to have a good death, meaning that I can die at home surrounded by family and friends. The worst way for me to die would be alone, in a nursing home, miserable because I am in pain, and undignified because I would be wearing a full diaper, and tubes would protrude from my mouth. And yet I know that even if I take all the precautions for a good death, and that I have made my wishes clear in a living will, there is no guarantee that my family will follow through with all of the arrangements that I have made.
