Even though I am now sixty nine

It's fair to say that life used to begin at forty or so the saying goes. However fifty is the new forty, sixty must be the new fifty and so on and so forth. Well in my view nothing has changed except we live longer, how we age is up to us and genetics. Medical science of course plays some part after all some of us could keep a hospital ward going with all the medications. A handfull thrown down with the glass of fresh orange in the mornings and another fistfull gulped last thing at night and that's just me and hubby of course.
I like to think I am still not quite looking my age, that one only you can judge, but feeling it that's different. That varies from day to day.

I know I was lucky enough to retire at sixty because I felt I had lots to do whilst having the energy to do it. I am happy to be growing old and feel satisfied with what I have achieved and who I have become. All I fear is being ill and needing to be dependent upon a health service which may not want to look after me, or know what my basic needs are. I am also afraid that the home I have worked for will be lost to pay for any care I may need. My generation were the first working class to buy our own homes and these homes are a form of legacy to give to our children and grandchildren and yet we will, more than likely, have nothing left because of low interest rates on our meagre savings. We expected to be able to leave our family comfortable because no one did that for us. We are the post war generation who brought skills to Britain through poorly paid and long apprenticeships living frugally as our parents had taught us from their experiences during the war.  We are the generation who child-minded grand- children, who cared for our own elderly and did not ask the state for help and yet we are left dangling as to what will become of us the generation who will outlive all generations before us. We are part of the statistic of the ‘heavy burden of the elderly’ which the media talks of.

Helen Hayes said ‘Age is not important unless you’re cheese’ I fear she may be right.

Age creeps up, a cliché I know but sadly it is true, as a young woman I would never have considered how it felt to be getting old and indeed why should I? Although I watched my mother age and she was ninety-four when she died as was her mother before her. I still could not imagine myself getting there. I have been blinkered with the unconscious philosophy of ‘It won’t happen to me’ another cliché. Aging is full of them. Past it, over the hill, doddering, what can you expect when you’re getting old, losing your marbles, deaf as a post and so on?

If I go to the doctor for any reason at all I am told that this pain or that ache is due to aging, that or being over weight. It’s frustrating especially when you know it isn’t true. Then the last straw is when the dentist tells you your gum recession is to do with age. Next news I’ll be reading the obituaries to see how many people I know have died.

How can I argue that I am not feeling my age when after lunch the pull to fall asleep in the chair is irresistible, accompanied by husband, dog and cat we all zed for an hour before dinner, mind we are all of a similar age in terms of doggy and cat years that is. Nowadays comfort is essential and yet never dreamt about in my youth, getting the bra off after dinner and letting everything hang free, husband moving his belt down a notch and slippers a daily essential.

I think the best bit about getting older, is the freedom to shout at the telly, to become a sofa protester. I am also becoming that old lady who shouts at passing cars and gives the V sign to traffic wardens. I have banged on a car door and thrown rubbish back in to that someone who threw it out in the first place. I am that old woman who mouths f’off to those who pinch the space I have been waiting to park in. Being older means I have the pleasure of ranting at the young who act like rabble. Being older means being foolishly fearless, perhaps facing down a gang of yobs or shouting at an injustice in the supermarket.  I think I have learned a confidence that has made me both bold and ignorant of the consequences.

I just wish that the experience and knowledge I have acquired over my lifetime would be useful in the here and now. It is my belief the retired British population is a wasted commodity in society today and the talent we worked so hard to acquire is lost forever. Our skills, education and life experience is no longer of value and certainly not respected. Of course we must make way for change because we have been a part of it throughout our lives, one must always make way for change and we the more mature members of society although we rant about its difficulties, know it is inevitable. It would appear that in some ways the government is making some attempt by increasing the length of our working life however, I think it’s not about making the older generation important it’s more about the financial implications and the cost to the country.

Maybe we as the older generation need to push what we know out there, offering to mentor those who struggle with their lives as we have before them. I have in the past done voluntary work in the hope of putting something back only to find that my past experience was ignored by the employed, discounted as if I had not had a life and certainly not a professional one. Maybe with this rant I have stirred you enough to want to jump up and prove me wrong.

Albert Einstein said ‘One must never think of the future because it will come soon enough’

 

This article was first published in the North Wales Weekly News 2011