Living Long Means Growing Old

My lovely friend, Helen Rorabaugh used to tell me, "Honey, It's hell growing old." She lived to be 94, outliving her son and her husband by many, many years. In the end, she was well cared for in a top-notch assisted living facility. A nephew and her many friends made sure she had what she wanted. Problem was, all she really wanted to do was die and be with her family. It's not that Helen whined or grew apathetic or anything. Living just wasn't much fun anymore.

Now that I am in my 50's, to some extent, almost everyone my age is dealing with aging parents and relatives. It's rough. It hurts. And... it makes you realize those days are not that far off. Twenty or 30 years from now, my children will be doing the same and I will be the one facing all the horrors of growing old.

Best case scenario is you live a mostly healthy, active life and when you are quite through with this world, you go to bed one night and die peacefully in your sleep. But that's the exception. For most of us, there will be mental and/or physical deterioration that makes the smallest tasks difficult and sucks the joy out of your life. I hate this reality!

Two weeks ago, we moved my in-laws into an assisted living facility. As they go, it's a nice one. The staff seems caring, the food is decent, the environment is warm and inviting- no bad smells as you go down the halls. Despite this, my in-laws now share a small room, consisting of a sitting area, a large TV and a bed. There is a sink, a microwave and a cupboard. Off this room is a large bathroom and a large, walk-in closet. The room is light and airy, with a window that looks at a landscaped courtyard. Days don't need to be spent in the room, there are gathering rooms, a nice dining area, a covered front porch and the courtyard. There is also a spa and hair salon. Much improved over care facilities of the past.

Moving them, was not an easy decision. We'd contemplated it for months and were warned by my father-in-law that it would "kill them." In the end, there wasn't much choice and a room became available. The move itself was fraught with tears. My mother-in-law mourned the loss of her kitty and my father-in-law was just plain angry- not at us, at the situation. I don't blame them. It does feel like the beginning of the end.

Now they share a small space just blocks from the home they raised their three boys in. They are both mobile so days might find them making the trip home, moving among the rooms they hold so dear. Soon the house will be sold and even that connection to their past will be severed.

In times past, parents were moved into your home and cared for, usually by the woman of the house. I'm sure it wasn't easy, but there were few other options. Even if there were, it was the family's duty to care for mom and dad. And while some still choose to care for their elderly loved ones, more often it isn't even an option. Two income homes and families waiting to have children until later in life preclude this.

Recently, I was attending a luncheon with a group of women I went to college with. While the faces were familiar, I can see that we are in fact aging (well, of course we are). Discussing our lives, one woman said , "We're not even technically middle-aged anymore." She's right, that is, unless we live to be over 100. I don't want to grow old. I don't want to move into a tiny room with my husband. I don't want to suffer from mental deficiency and physical ailments, but unless I am one of the rare few that goes quietly in their sleep, I will.

That's life- living long means growing old and I do want to live long.

VSL

For Better or Worse

Recently my mom shared a phone conversation she had with my Aunt Judy. Judy and her husband, Jack, live in West Virginia, and have throughout most of my life. Because it is a long distance we only saw each other on rare, special occasions. Throughout my childhood, those occasions typically took place in California where my grandparents lived and later in Arkansas where they retired. In my adult life I saw them when they came to see my parents, who live nearby. I always look forward to their visits. They are very dear to me.

Uncle Jack was head of the sociology department at the small private college where he taught. He was always full of energy; an avid jogger, hiker and swimmer. He and my Aunt Judy traveled often and enjoyed outdoor adventures. Well, let's just say he did and Aunt Judy, as the dutiful wife, went along. So it was surprising that shortly after retirement and only in his mid 60's, Uncle Jack's health began to fail. His legs kept giving out and his hearing began to go. At first it was a minor impairment but as time when on, and doctors were baffled, it became a burdensome thing. Burdensome for Jack, but also, very much so for my Aunt Judy.

Long distance trips to doctors, being home bound and Uncle Jack's constant demands are now what my Aunt Judy's life is made up of. In the phone conversation my mom had with Aunt Judy, she asked how things were. Aunt Judy replied "My life sucks." As my mom relayed this to me I got thinking how marriage and the roles and relationships in those marriages change over time.

Judy and Jack are not the only seniors I am close to who have had to take on the role of caregiver and disabled. I know of many couples whose end of life stage becomes pure drudgery- chronic illness for one and over the top care giving for the other. I saw my paternal grandmother sit by my grandfather's side every day in the nursing home. She did this for years. His death was a relief and a release for her. It was like she was a changed person and all the garbage from their marriage tumbled out. No longer saddled with her ailing husband, she traveled, joined clubs, enjoyed fashion and spent time with family. She shared stories, thoughts and feelings like never before. Freedom was a such a release for her. It was like she was allowed to live for the first time in her life.

My parent's neighbor cared for her Alzheimer stricken husband for a couple of years until she could no longer handle the responsibility. Once he was put in a nursing home, she left for weeks at a time visiting family and friends. Her weekdays are filled with lunches out, afternoon matinees and shopping. My mom rarely sees her anymore. Freedom never felt so good!!

Even closer are my in-laws. They live nearby and have had a wonderful marriage, filled with respect and affection. It's my mother-in-law who fell ill. She was officially diagnosed with Alzheimer's a couple years ago. We all saw the signs for several years prior to the official diagnosis. My father-in-law, Harold, is her sole caregiver. One son lives in the same town and helps out as needed. The other two sons, visit often and are willing to be there on a moment's notice. But the day-to-day grind falls to Harold. It's hard to watch the healthy dynamics of a marriage disintegrate, when in the end, this person you are caring for is not the person you married. Harold loves Marge and he will be there until the end but it isn't easy and I imagine each and every day feels like a chore.

As my daughter and I plan her wedding and I feel the excitement and anticipation just oozing from her, I contemplate how life changes and relationships change. You start out young and starry-eyed and, sadly, often end up bitter and disillusioned. The only options to this end of life scenario are that one spouse dies suddenly or both go at the same time- a rarity. The fact is, if you live a long full life; more than likely one of you will end up taking care of the other as their health declines. And, often, in the end, that person feels unimaginable frustration, oftentimes anger and resentment at being absolutely stuck in this position, through no choice of their own.

It's rather a depressing scenario and there is no real solution. No matter how you've cared for your body, no matter what your genetic history, no matter that you've never been sick a day in your life; in the end, most of us end up needing care. As my lovely neighbor Helen use to say, "Growing old ain't fun, girl."

I know it isn't and I hurt for my senior family members living through these tough times. I know the love is still there, it's just buried under the tasks of getting through each day. In the end, when the ill spouse is no longer with us; the memories of that person in their younger days will win out and those end memories will be forgotten. But, for those doing the care giving, it can be a long haul until then.