The black and white photo–proof I’m definitely in that age group. Current photos are additional proof!
I accept it while still in wonder about it at times. Because I feel great and am in excellent health (as far as I know, so far), I don’t feel like I’m in that age group. My husband’s aunt, who looks probably 20 years younger than she is, often says age is just a number. That’s true in a way. Your mental attitude, your physical health, and even your hobbies and interests reflect your age more than the calendar.
You know what I mean. Some people’s lifestyles and/or genetic health issues make them age more quickly than the 96-year-old woman in one of my civic groups who still drives and is involved in civic activities. Some people seem to thrive on getting older. My mom seemed to delight in getting older. She lived to be almost 94, but never complained about getting older. She laughed about it at times, and honestly, I think she thrived on being treated like she was elderly. You know what I mean if you’ve reached a certain age. It’s when those younger folks talk to you as though you’re not quite with it. When the nurse calls you “hon.” Or, as our preacher said once, if you fall as a young person, people laugh. If you fall as an older person, people rush to help you.
In Mom’s later years, I went to all her doctor appointments with her, and doctors tended to talk to me about her condition even though she was sitting right there. That would have bothered me, but Mom didn’t mind at all. She wasn’t the independent type and was only too happy for me to handle…everything.
One day a friend and I were at a local sandwich shop (we have several good ones in town), and the young man told me, “Your total after the senior citizen discount is–.” I laughed and told my friend, “I don’t know whether to thank him for the discount or be offended he could tell I qualify just by looking at me.” The young man had been friendly and talkative, and I think he could tell I was just kidding around with him and wasn’t truly offended. He just grinned and said, “I like to give discounts.” I reassured him it was fine, and I appreciated the discount.
Still, it did sting a bit!
I joined the wellness center last month, and I participate in a couple of the Silver Sneakers classes. The classes have anywhere from 35 to 40 people participating. The thing is, we’re all considered senior citizens, but the calendar ages range from the early sixties to up in the eighties. The ability levels are all over the place. Yesterday’s class was focused on balance, something we all need, I think. Today it will be aerobics centered, and it’s one of those classes you can get the heart rate up or not, depending on how much you put into it. LT does a great job of leading us. She recognizes the ability levels are as varied as the women and men (yes, we have some men) in the class, but thank goodness she doesn’t push us the way our P.E. teachers did in school.
My worst grades were in P.E., which is no surprise to my family. And, oh, those horrible one-piece blue jumper shorts with the snaps we had to wear in high school…when I was a junior, I became a member of the yearbook staff just so I could get out of taking P.E. In college, I was thrilled to discover I could take those classes pass/fail. But hey, I did make an “A” in bowling and and “A” in tennis skills. But I was stupid enough to take a class called “Figure Control and Conditioning.” My professor at the time is now in our retired teachers group, and I love to tell her she was trying to kill us in that class!
Don’ get me wrong. I have always liked being active. Just not in the structure P.E. class setting where I felt too tall and awkward.
I guess the whole point of this blog is that aging is real, and how we adapt to it depends on our personalities and our circumstances. In our youth-adoring culture, we don’t want to think about it and resist the thought of it. Older people are not honored in the same way they are honored in some other cultures. We are encouraged to have cosmetic procedures and use serums and lotions to remain as youthful looking as possible for as long as we can. The more tech-savvy generations view us as inept if our skills with technology are not what they think they should be. Sometimes our adult children think we’re not as capable as we actually are.
However, conversations in our age group are funny these days. Discussions about medicine, colonoscopies, arthritis…if you sit back and just listen, it’s hilarious in a way. Yes, we are in that season of life in which Medicare Part D is something to evaluate every year, yet my husband and several of his pickle ball player companions can hold their own playing against much younger men who join their group from time to time. We’re older, but we’re not finished with living.
I have a feeling my husband could hold out longer on the pickle ball court than many younger people, and there’s no doubt I can out-walk most of them due to a lifelong walking habit and the blessing of not having arthritis or back trouble. But I also recognize it might not be a good idea for me to roller skate, something I used to love, or take up jogging since that would hurt my knees.
Yes, I’m in that age group. But as my husband’s aunt says, my calendar age doesn’t define me. I can know my limits without imposing restrictions that aren’t needed. I can treat others with kindness, no matter how they treat me. I can find enjoyment in new activities, and I can listen and learn from younger generations while hoping they can learn from me.
And, yes, I can get that senior citizen discount. Why not?
Life As I know it 