Age is Just a Number

I've just celebrated my birthday. 69. It is the last year of this decade. Next year will be the big 70. When I was younger, 70 was the Rocking Chair Era. Gray hair. Slow moving. The age of Grandma's. Which is rather funny, because my own mother was indeed a grandma 11 times over, but she certainly wasn't in a rocking chair when she turned 70. She was still leading an active life. However, my generation was also part of the era where 'you didn't trust anyone over 30' and 40 was 'over the hill'! Weren't we the naïve ones!

I showed remarkable wisdom, when at the age of 30, instead of seeing it as lost youth like my peers, I told my friends: "For most of the 1st third of my life, I was oblivious, a child following directions, doing what I was told. Little of my life was under my control. For the last third of my life I may be returning to that stage in the waning years. For the middle third it is My Life. My Choices. This is the best age!"

I can adjust a bit of that outlook, now, but looking back I do believe I was right. Being a wife and a mother, raising a family, having a satisfying career, were exciting, exhausting, frustrating, wonderful, years. As much as I enjoyed those years, I didn't realize, then, how fulfilling they really were. Looking back, I realize even more, that raising my family were the pinnacle years.

What I didn't understand, when I was younger, is that even as we age, we stay the same. I think I expected to feel different inside. But of course, I'm still the same person I was at 20, 30, 50. Life's lessons may have made me wiser. Experiences may have given me more confidence. But inside I still feel like "Me". However, my body often has to remind me that try as I might, there are just some things that aren't going to happen anymore. Yes, at 69, almost 70, some things about me have changed.

Maturity is a sneaky thing. One day, you are pulling all-nighters, and then you discover you can't stay up past 10:00. You're idea of the perfect party changes from the music driven, booze driven night, to the neighbors coming over for a cookout, glass of wine, and some laughs. Sitting cross-legged on the floor with your kids? No problem. With your grandkids? Ha!

What's different about me at 69--almost 70? Not a whole lot. I do play more. That's what retirement is for. The best part is having the time to do all of the things I never had time for, during those family and employment years. The empty nest and retirement years offer a freedom to explore in so many ways that those years of family and job responsibility didn't. I have friends that live full-time in an RV and send photos of their expeditions and explorations. Others have embarked on 2nd careers completely different from their past. Most of us are just as busy as we were 40 years ago. But if we want to take the day and do nothing, we can!

70 no longer seems like 'old age' to me. It's just a number. Travel, writing, visiting grandkids, participating in community organizations, enjoying life; that's the life I love now. True Confession: My favorite part of any day is sitting on the porch in late afternoon, with a glass of iced tea or a vodka tonic watching all of the activity at the bird feeder. And yes, I'm usually in a rocker! But the rocking chair sits empty the rest of the day, waiting for me.

Here is the heads up. Kids from 17-97: You are you, and that will never change. Life is an adventure. 50 years from now, your experiences will add to your story, enhance your viewpoints. God created you. Enjoy the moment you are in.

At any age, Every day is a gift.



NOTE: Not to get preachy, there is a truth that we know, but have a hard time projecting. The healthier we are at 40 and 50 and 60.... the better we will feel at 70 and 80. "Use it or Lose it" is a maxim. Exercise, watch your weight, know what foods are best; it is all relevant and important, if you want to enjoy those 'Golden Years'. This is the biggest lesson I have learned. See what I mean about being wiser?

OASIS

I have been exceptionally quiet on my blog lately. Part of the reason is because I don't view my blog as a journal of daily events. I try to write when something new is happening, or when something has provoked a Point of View. When I am quiet, it is probably a sign that either I am very contented, or perhaps bored. Most likely, nothing of great interest is going on. But sometimes it is actually because I'm very busy. In this case, that's closer to the truth. Lately, I've been having a lot of fun, but it has also had the effect of cutting into my blogging time.

Our church has a wonderful program for Seniors called OASIS. OASIS stands for Outstanding Adults Sharing In Service. For 8 weeks in the fall, winter and spring they provide a multitude of classes available for anyone over 50 for just $25.00. It has been going on for at least 17 years, maybe more.

Oasis is different from the traditional "over 55 social group" churches offer. It is open to anyone over 50 regardless of what town they live in or what church they might attend. There are classes in everything from chair caning, to writing, calligraphy to a music jam for musicians with an instrument, all led by instructors who volunteer their time. It changes from session to session.

Last session I took Yoga, but this time I stepped it up. I participate in two line dancing groups in the morning and then sit for two hours in the afternoon sharing stories with a writing group. That has interfered with my blogging. What I write about there doesn't really fit what I blog about, but it takes my writing focus. However, I really enjoy it, so perhaps, you lose, while I win.

OASIS isn't for all communities, but it is a great model for those people looking for a way to reach out to their senior citizens. My community has a high artisan population. We are rich with people who will share their skills with people like me who have little or only average talent. However, just imagine the ways you could reach your own community, with photography, computer, language, or business skills on both a beginner and advanced levels. It is affordable and provides a multitude of ways to keep 'retired, old brains' active.

Meanwhile, this old brain is learning new dance steps and sharpening her pencil.  And I'm having a ball with it!

3 Old Dogs

We had a party last weekend; our "2nd Annual Labor Day Party". There was great food, lots of people, plenty of kids, one old dog, an array of beverages for all ages and types, and of course.... crummy weather.

Isaac had been making his way up through the heartland and had finally turned east. We watched the weather closely to see how we would be affected. Saturday morning the weather man optimistically assured us the rain would arrive late. Saturday should be OK, except for the occasional shower, but Sunday and Monday could be pretty wet. We set up an awning for people to sit under in case of a shower, or to keep off the sun. We cleaned the patio. We packed coolers with ice, water, and sodas so the kids would stay out of the refrigerator. We packed the refrigerator with beer. Lots of beer. Several kinds of beer. And Wine. (gotta have the wine.)

At 2:30 the first 'shower' arrived. Not to worry, I thought. As long as it is out of here by 5:00. At 4:30 the thunder began. At 4:45 the heavens opened. At 5:00 the rain paused and people began arriving. The coolers were placed in the basement Man Cave/party room. At 5:05 the heavens once again opened all its doors. A few neighbors had not shown up yet.

One texted "Is there a rain date?"

"NOPE, we're all in the basement. Just wait until it slows enough that you can see our house, and run on over."

The kids played. They played Tag. They played Hide and Seek. They played Squeal and Shout. They were having a wonderful time.

The adults talked, and mingled, and drank, and nibbled. They drank some more. We moved from appetizers to the main course. They ate, and talked and mingled, and refilled glasses. The kids continued to play the Squeal and Shriek game.

The old dog paced, went from child to child in search of food, and adult to adult in search of love.

The rain cleared and we sent them out to play. They saw lightning and came back in. One parent's eyes crossed as she mumbled to her friend, "oh go out and play anyway. it won't hurt you..."

The lightning moved on. The adults moved outside, and wiped off benches and seats and sat in the muggy, dark, quiet, cool of the night.

The next morning we woke up. I remained in bed in a groggy half sleep as Larry got his shower. He dropped something making a clatter and I jumped, (in my sleep). The dog slept on.

We went to breakfast at a local, popular tiny restaurant that is always packed. It is the kind of place 'where everybody knows your name'. After waiting for a table we took the one nearest the door. Shouts of welcome greeted newcomers from people already eating. It truly is a local haunt. Our eyes glazed over. The din was relentless. If we were hungover, we would have deserved the pain. But we weren't. We simply have Old Ears. Ears that are far removed from the normal noise of a household of kids. Ears that have adjusted to the Empty Nest. Ears that no longer bend and flex to the varying sound waves the way they did when we were 20.

Breakfast over we went back to our quiet home. No TV. No radio. No noise. We moved slowly through the day.

The dog slept.

Oh yes... Sunday and Monday they were still predicting 60% chance of rain, but alas, the skies were overcast, but dry. Perfect for a picnic.

Silver Sneakers and Golden Girls

Silver Sneakers and Golden Girls

I've developed a problem with my feet. My feet are not my strongest feature. For years I've worn orthotics in my sneakers. I never wear truly flat shoes (like the ones in vogue right now... with all the support of a ballet slipper). I rarely wear sandals, and only for a few hours at a time, like to church or out to dinner. And those heels every one wears on TV. Really? No way. I have flat feet and they tire easily when I am on them for hours at a time. All that being said....

This summer I have added a new problem. I don't know if it is because I am working out more, but the toes next to my big toe have learned how to scream when I've exercised a lot. For years, yoga was not a problem. Suddenly, this summer, after a yoga class I would find I couldn't do my traditional 2 mile walk around the township building. Then one day after an aquatics work out, they said the same thing.... YOOWWWW!

I imagined turf toe. I suspected arthritis. I hoped for a bandaid or toe pad that would make it feel better. What I got was the diagnosis of a 'neuroma', and a cortisone shot. The pain in my toes diminished, but the bruise from the cortisone stayed for days. In a way the good news was that the doctor didn't tell me I had to cut back and stay off my feet. I've worked hard this summer. I don't feel like losing the gain.

But the doctor also said there wasn't too much that could be done. The cortisone was the first step. The verdict is still out as to how much relief it will bring, but it has put a definite crimp in my workouts. Hopefully it will take care of the problem and I can get back to normal.

The rules are simple. Shoes feel best. Slippers even work. Barefeet (Yoga) bring on the pain. Although the doctor didn't feel as if I needed to take it easy on my feet, common sense says cutting back can't hurt, (no pun intended).

I hate getting old. A few years ago I started walking and exercising hard, pelvic tilts were my new focus. I ended up with shooting pains in my butt and down my legs. It felt like electric shock! Fortunately it was short lived. After 2 weeks it stopped. But so had my walking workouts.

Bad ankles, worn out knees, arthritic hips, sore feet. It's a wonder any of us over 50 can get out of bed in the morning, let alone get into an exercise maintenance program. If this keeps up, I'm going to have to head over to the Senior Center and join the Silver Sneakers gals. I'm not ready for that. I may have a lot in common with the Golden Girls, but in my heart I just see the GIRL part.

Until I get up and walk.

Humph!

2 Old Dogs

Tuesday is Maggie's birthday. She will be 12 years old. I'm posting this today, because my daughter is moving tomorrow, and I will be without an internet connection for a couple of days.

12 is not an easy age for a dog. Over the past year I've seen her slow down some. Walks take longer, hills are harder. We both agree. We aren't as young as we used to be. According to one way of calculating 'dog years', Maggie and I are pretty close in age.

I think animals and people have some similar experiences when it comes to aging. This week I have been helping my daughter get her new home ready to move in. After a few days of stooping, and standing, lifting and carrying, I began each day with Advil. Every part of me hurt. Sitting was painful... and I would have welcomed a crane to hoist me back up. Advil didn't make a dent.

Maggie knows how I feel. When she wants to lay down, I watch as Maggie slowly positions her hind legs and then lowers herself to the ground. When it is time to stand up she angles her hips, and then slowly hoists herself up. She starts her day with Bufferin in a "Greenie Pill Pocket". I'm not sure it helps her much either.

She spends a lot of her day sleeping. I don't sleep as much, but she sure does make it look fun.

There is another side to aging. No matter how old we get, in our heads we are still spring chickens. I see that similarity between us as well. When it is time to hit the sidewalk for a walk we start out with a spring in our step even if our tail is dragging on the way home. (1/2 mile later.)

Tonight we had pizza for dinner. Even though her birthday is 2 days away, we decided to celebrate early. Anyone who knows Maggie knows Pizza is one of her very favorite foods. (See  Elephants and Old Dogs Never Forget, Sept. 10, 2010  http://viewfromanemptynest-connie.blogspot.com/2010/09/elephants-and-old-dogs-never-forget.html )


Pizza arrives!

Something smells good!

Waiting Patiently while we sang Happy Birthday.

After we sang Happy Birthday I cut it into pieces and added it to her dinner in her bowl. She never touched her dinner, but ate the pizza and then stared at the rest of us waiting for our crusts. Such a greedy girl!

Happy Birthday, Maggie!

Yoga: It's Not For Sissies!

 I love my yoga class...usually. It's a great way to start the day. The stretches feel wonderful. Most of the core strengthening is empowering. And at my age, working on that flexibility is a must. But sometimes it's just a joke.

YOGA INSTRUCTOR: Such a soothing voice... the music provides a quiet, rhythmic background...

"Cross your left leg behind your right leg... Slowly lower yourself to the ground with your left leg tucked under your body, bending your right leg... Inhale slowly ...as you wrap your left arm around your right leg and hug it to your body... Right hand on your back hip... Slowly twist to the right.  Exhale gently... Extend right arm behind you, palm up. ...."

Me: You had me at "hug it to your body".

YOGA INSTRUCTOR: Always spoken in such gentle, encouraging and hopeful tones...

"Sit in an upright position, extending both legs out in front of you... Arms raised, extend your body forward. Exhale... Left hand touches your toes, as you reach your right hand under across your body under your left, hand up. Pivot your body to the left...."

HUH???

Note to self: Never play twister with a Yoga Instructor!

Young at Heart--Tips from an old dog

Maggie turns 11 today. In dog years that would make her somewhere in her late 70's. How has age changed her? The obvious is that she is no longer a puppy that chews everything in sight, nor a maniac youngster with too much energy. But there are subtle changes as well.

She doesn't run as hard as she used to. As a youngster when she ran, she ran all out, leaping over fallen trees, hurtling down the slope of the retention pond and back up again. Sometimes she would run so hard she would hurt herself. There was no half-speed for her. Her eagerness outdid her reason.Today she enjoys a chance to run, and she gets up some good speed. Her ears flap back and her mouth opens wide into a smile. It still feels so good to her, but it is tempered by reason, experience...and age.

It wasn't so long ago that Maggie was enticed by the crackle of an empty water bottle. It was one of her favorite toys. When she found one, she would grab it and take off with it. We would wait until most of the crackle was gone and then get it back from her before she started swallowing little plastic shards. I've been collecting water bottles for a project at church. They are all over the house. If I give her one, she'll crackle it for awhile, but she hasn't stolen one. Signs of changed interests.

Her 'toy' of choice is one of my slippers. She greets me at the door with them, and can even find them on command. The other day she even had one tucked under her head as she slept. One day Warren decided she should wear them.

 She's good with the grandchildren. Patient, calm, comfortable. And in turn, they are patient, calm, and comfortable around her.

 

Now it's plain to see the closeness of her loved ones has taken precedence to the excitement of toys.

On walks she has always been well-mannered, but there was a constant tug on the end of the leash as we took off. The return trip is always slower though. I've found the fastest way to slow a dog down is to turn around and start heading home. It may seem as though they are tired, but mostly they are just trying to prolong the time outside with their master. Now as we walk, I'm not sure if it is age or just good manners, but even as she trots ahead of me, the leash is never taut.

Maggie still runs sometimes, but she doesn't run as hard or as long as she used to. Mostly she's happy just to walk along side me.

And she really does enjoy her naps.

But the other day I saw a younger Maggie. The day was the promise of the spring to come. The sun was warm, the breeze light. As we took off on our walk her head was up, ears forward. She set a lively pace, eager to get where we were going.  The week had been a dreary one. The weather was cold, and I was busy. The result was a bored dog. But if I think she's getting old, today she reminded me she can still keep me on my toes. She's only as old as I let her be. The more I give her to do, the younger she remains. She reminds me she may be getting old, but she's not ready to be put on the shelf.

.

Happy Birthday, Maggie!