WELCOME TO THE 90’s

To call something a fad, is to think of it as a passing fancy; something to entertain us for the time being, and then move on. A few years ago I had not heard of DNA testing except on TV cop shows. Now it seems that everyone is having the tests done to determine their ancestry and ethnicity. Not to be left behind, I spent yesterday afternoon spitting into a tiny plastic tube, to accumulate 1/4 inch of my precious saliva. At the age of 90 what do I hope to find? Will it prove my indomitable Grandmother wrong in her assertion that we stem from strong English stock with perhaps a drop of Irish blood derived from my sweet Grandpa? This of course does not include any scientific information from my paternal side. Grandma was quick to overlook anything she did not have an interest in. At any rate, it is a talking point and shows I am not entirely behind times.

I was feted royally by friends and family to acknowledge the undeniable fact that I have reached the vaunted age of 90. Dr. Advice reached this pinnacle two years ago, and when I saw the advanced age did him no harm, it removed the stigma I feared might occur. Though I have never been one to dwell on age, it is now amazing to me that I have so many friends who are in their 90’s and still upright and active.

Granted that some people need a little help one way or another as they age. My high school group in Alameda has increased from the original 6-7, as one is now in assisted living and her daughter brings her to the luncheon. Two others bring daughters who drive them now, and I have a good friend who does the same for me. The important thing is that we still come, and our intentions are still good.

We offer “tea and sympathy when needed as well, when we heard that one of our members is being forced out of her home. She gave the home some time ago to her daughter and son in law, but still lived in it. Her daughter passed away last year, and now the son-in-law is moving and plans to sell the house. A clear case of legal elder abuse. Another classmate a few years ago sold her home in Washington state at the request of her daughter and son in law and moved to Texas into an apartment which she hates. She has lost all her long time friends and her money from the sale of her house has been used to support her daughter and unemployed son in law. This is not to put sons-in-law in a a bad light, as I have had very good luck along that line.

All this proves is that as older people we need to stay aware. Hopefully Life has given us some measure of health and where-with-all, with a few brains left to protect both. We don’t need to become pistol packing mamas, but we do need to realize that we have become vulnerable and targets for those out to get somebody. anybody.

There are things to think about as elders though, which were’t a problem in our youth. Some communities have internet sign up groups to put people in touch with handymen, dog walkers, house cleaners, gardeners, and what have you. Chores which we once did for ourselves, but which require more muscle than we have left. Shopping can be a problem as well. We are awaiting the renewal of Dr.A’s driving license and mulling over possibilities to get to wherever in the possibility that he will someday have to stop driving. Last week we did a trial run with Uber to the local Safeway store and back. A good experience and relieved any anxiety we might have had.

Ninety is shaping up and they can start planning my 95th!

SWIMMING IN YOUR HEAD

Amy Tan, writer of such memorable works as “The Joy Luck Club” as well as so many other insightful books, once advised us to write what’s swimming in our head. The mind is never a complete blank, though the ability to transcribe the void can be difficult.

My mind is usually so crowded, it’s hard to separate the ridiculous from the sublime, which is why I occasionally walk into another room and wonder why I went there. I would feel bad about it, but my daughter says she does it too. There is too much information out there to remember it all. A friend excused the sensation by imagining a little man bustling about trying to organize a roomful of feral cats. Obviously it can’t be done, so why worry?

We entertained yesterday with a late lunch, and Charlie behaved himself grandly with friends who had known him from a tiny puppy. Only once did I hear someone say “Charlie, stop eating your bed”. Charlie, like many humans, seems to get energized when company arrives, and while some people are propelled into talking mode, Charlie, in an obvious effort to extend a welcome, drags out all the toys in the toybox to see if he can encourage someone to pay attention to him. It’s sad really.

I don’t believe in New Year’s Resolutions. The people who make them in hopes of improving themselves, usually don’t need much improvement. The monthly lunch with my high school girl friends, has gained a couple more ladies, who decided to join us when they heard about it. We used to meet every 6 weeks or so, but as we get closer to decrepitude, it seems wise to meet more often. One friend has moved into a retirement home, and another cannot drive the distance required. A third who until a year ago, drove to Reno often to see family, no longer drives the freeway. In our case, the resolution to come together more often is imperative.

We make the decision to stop driving at different ages and for different reasons. One friend and neighbor will be 95 in a few weeks and is still driving, though no longer on the freeway. The traffic has become horrendous at any time of day, and accidents and road rage intimidate the most intrepid drivers. I gave up driving this past year when I realized my AMD had progressed to the point of danger. Now, several months later, I have limited vision, finding certain things simply disappear. I can’t believe it, but it’s another interesting part of growing older, and more people than we know suffer from the condition. It’s somewhat like the roomful of feral cats, so why worry?

I am reminded of a cousin, who is 99 this year, had a relationship with a gentleman friend a few years ago. When they were both widowed, they decided to marry, and planned a wedding aboard the USS Hornet, a wartime aircraft carrier moored in Alameda, which had some meaning for them. The gentleman’s adult children however, disapproved of the marriage, casting a pall on the affair which ended shortly thereafter, due to the prospective bride and groom living in different cities, and unable to drive any longer. The ability to drive in their case was crucial. It was obviously before Uber.