We bitch and moan about aging, and then this happens.
I’m caring for my elderly, very frail mother right now. In the moments I can sneak away and read for fun, I saw this article about an 80 year old woman wondering about feeling sexual attraction, whether she’s happy or not to be invisible, etc. blah blah. I mean, I’m glad she’s got an article in the NYT. Older people are receiving more attention, as is the aging process. That’s good. I welcome it.
But I’m also a bit jaded. Or more precisely, I’m tired in the way caregivers are tired. Tired in the way daughters are tired seeing their mother deal with the last stages of life. Tired in the way existential fear and proximity to the whole mortality thing can weigh you down and make you crabby.
We go through our lives changing as we add on the years. We turn thirty and worry that we’re “old.” We become midlifers and wonder if we’ll always work this hard. We go through menopause and realize the existential truth of the life cycle. We come out the other side and wonder what we were afraid of.
All through our lifespan, we’re assessing, recalibrating, thinking. What does it mean to be the age we are now?
Everything I see about my mother’s existence right now makes me creepily grateful for what I have. She can’t walk more than a few steps without stopping to catch her breath. The oxygen tank is always on, huffing and sighing for her. She is mentally sharp, although tired. She knows what’s happening.
We’re going through her closets, getting rid of things. I’m taking notes. It’s a relief, we both say this again and again. It’s a relief to lighten the load.
We don’t know what’s coming, but we’re realistic. She’s tired. She misses my dad.
I’m tired, and I miss my frivolous life where I had the energy to care about such superficial issues as sexual invisibility in older age. I know this will change, and I’ll go back to parsing every syllable of the aging process. It’s what I love to do, usually.
But this phase, this long goodbye with Mom, causes me to think differently about life. Instead of analyzing the particulars, I just want to enjoy life, every aspect of it. I feel so grateful to be 64. I feel a new appreciation for the beauty of my age, and concern about aching joints, wrinkles, and invisibility seems superficial.
Life is hard. Life is good.
So well said, Lynne. I think how blessed I am that my parents are still living. Even though the aging process may be painful to behold, it also reveals the fragile majesty of human existence. Your mom is so lucky to have you there by her side.
Lynne, I’m late to read this but it’s just as timely today. Sis, I feel for ya! I, too, am caregiving for my elderly mama, so I know of what you speak. Thankfully, Mom’s still got her wits about her, though physically she has challenges. I don’t guess it’s ever easy for a daughter to care for her mom, but it’s probably better for me than for my sis (who got on with Mom like oil and water!). I’ve tried to get Mom to pare down closets and such, but she refuses. Can we say ‘denial’?? Perhaps it’s easier to follow her lead and sort the stuff after she’s gone while making the most of the time we have left to us. Hugs to you, my friend — once again, you’re trailblazing and I’m the beneficiary!
Debbie, so good to hear from you! Yes, it’s a rough time in our lives, but whenever we lament Mom’s decline, I remind us that we got to enjoy her company for probably ten years more than most, as she is well into her 93rd year. Yesterday family visited her. There were four generations at her house. She said she was a lucky woman. Thank you for your kind thoughts, and I wish you and your mama well. <3
I also ‘served at the front’. My mother lived to 94, and suffered from Alzheimer’s for the last 4 years of her life. Or shall I say, we all suffered from Alzheimer’s, which is what happens in families! I had a mantra at the time, something like, ‘I’ll do this to the max, and I’ll never have any regrets’. It worked, and I have nothing but love and peace whenever I think about her. Take care of yourself during this very difficult time in your life, Lynne!.
Diane, I love blogging for the community it engenders. Thank you, too, for sharing your story. We are all in this together, but sometimes we forget that. It helps. <3
What a mind opening perspective you’ve just shared with such raw, truthful, vulnerable writing. I have to say that it’s made me extra thankful to be 53, with my mom still a healthy 72 year old woman. This line…”I feel a new appreciation for the beauty of my age, and concern about aching joints, wrinkles, and invisibility seems superficial.” …hit home for me. Know that you’re in my thoughts, as you continue this journey with your mom, and may you enjoy what you can, let go of what you can’t change, and find a moment of peace daily!
Thanks, Trisha. That’s what I wanted to give folks, the realization (reality check) that there’s so much to be happy about even if we are getting old. It’s relative, but unless you’re serving at the front, you might not know it. So that’s the missive. Thank you for your kind thoughts.