Yesterday, my home phone rang. Big deal, right? OK, it was. I rarely use it. Everyone calls me on my mobile. So, 90% of the time, it's a wrong number. 5% of the time, it's a doctor or dentist's office and the rest are people I'd just as soon not call me.
The person on the other end said she was from Alick's Home Medical Care Service. I was prepared to tell her she had the wrong number, until she said she was calling for (gulp), me. Huh?! Alick's is a place for old people! I get depressed just watching their television commercials--the ones showing how they can install this automatic chair that slides up and down the stairs at about 1.6 miles per hour. In the chair sits a woman with a smiling, but rather blank and vacant stare on her face. I suppose they are trying to convince us she's enjoying the ride. My thought is that I hope she isn't going up to get to the lavatory, because, at that speed, she's never going to make it in time. Their commercials are usually followed by TV ads for funeral homes. After all, it's the next logical step. First, you make the visit to Alick's. Before you know it, you're six feet under.
Anyways, the Alick's lady explained that my surgeon wanted me fitted for a thigh high compression stocking to wear after my upcoming hip surgery, in order to prevent blood clots. This means that, now, I actually had to go to Alick's. And, I am going to have to wear some groovy stocking that clearly won't be fashionable at all. I had just come home from a very good trip to Louisiana, and now, I was instantly in a bad mood.
When I arrived at Alick's today, I had to wait for my appointment, and so I wandered around the "store." Now, there are few people who enjoy shopping more than I, but this was not your typical mall type shop. I was confronted with canes (and not the cool, classy kind, but rather, the ones with the four prongs), walkers with the little built in seats, oxygen equipment, those big chairs that raise you up to help you stand, hospital type beds, rows and rows of pill containers, surgical dressing, orthopedic shoes, and on and on and on. I was depressed. I didn't want to think about this stuff.
When I was younger, I used to tease older people about their age--a lot. I don't think I ever let a year go by where I didn't send my parents and my brothers birthday cards that made fun of their age; because, of course, I am the youngest. I don't want to generalize, but I think, as younger people, we see old age as something humorous. That's ironic, since most of us will, one day, get there. Well, I'm not so young anymore. I like to think of myself as middle aged, but, in a recent conversation, the person I was talking to was urging me to consider that I am pushing past that point and that old age is, in reality, just around the corner. Good grief. Already? I haven't even psychologically matured yet. Is my body going to give up before I get a chance to grow up?
I have had gray hair since the age of 14, so I always looked old. But looking old has had its advantages. I was never carded when entering a bar (not that I would have tried to ever do so illegally). I get the senior discount without being asked, even though I am not yet old enough to get it. That's fine. I'm not proud. Looking old, and actually being old are two very different things.
The truth is, I am beginning to fear old age. It is no longer funny, and while I might occasionally tease my older friends or my brothers, I think the jibing has taken a much mellower and much more uncertain tone. I do realize this new found fear isn't healthy or rational. Frankly, dwelling on it is quite a waste of time, as I have absolutely no control over it whatsoever.
So here I sit, reflecting on why I have this fear of aging. Many of my friends, and people I love and respect fall into the category of old. As I wrote that just now, I almost didn't even want to use the word "old". Calling someone old feels much like calling them a bad name, almost as if it's an insult. But, in fact, that isn't the case. I don't mind them being old. In fact, I appreciate the wisdom and grace that has come with their aging. It's just that I don't want to get there myself.
I don't want to get there because of the unknown. We don't really know how we're going to age. I recall a conversation I had, mostly jocular, with my nieces, and later my nephew. My two nieces, after hearing me worry about being alone in my old age, said, "Don't worry Aunt Judy, we'll take care of you." I asked them if they were going to change my diaper. I was greeted with silence. My nephew, on the other hand (and he does pretty well financially) said: "I won't change your diaper, but I'll pay someone to do it." Great. In all seriousness though, I worry that along with becoming wise and aging gracefully, there may also be a certain amount of pain and loneliness. Some people begin to lose their memory. Others develop arthritis and are limited in the physical activities that they can do. As it is, I'm having hip surgery. Deteriorating joints go hand in hand with old age. Welcome to the club, Jude. It's scary.
Ultimately though, fear of aging is linked with fear of death. And, despite being a faithful Catholic, I must admit that I have those moments where the thought of dying and being no more is so frightening that I have to go and put in my DVD of Bridget Jones' Diary just to get the thoughts out of my head. I'm almost ashamed to admit it. As people of faith, we aren't supposed to fear death. "Death, where is thy sting?" and all of that. To admit to fearing death is to suggest that maybe I lack faith.
Well, I don't. Not really. But without doubt, there is no faith. And I can't help that sometimes those doubts do creep into my head. I only hope that, as I continue advancing into old age, they creep into my head less and less and that I change my perspective and am able to age gracefully as well, much like my senior friends.
Today I listened to a podcast by Fr. Jerry Fagin. I ran into him in Louisiana this past week, and told him I had seen the podcast before and tried to play it, but couldn't get it to work. After seeing him, I was reminded of it, and came back to listen to it today. Interestingly, the talk is on the Spirituality of Aging. I looked at that title and thought to myself "oh my." He is a brilliant and interesting professor, and I loved listening to him lecture, but I hesitated, reflecting on the coincidence that I had been musing, grumpily, about old age all day, and here I was preparing to listen to a talk for old people.
The talk, however, while geared towards those who are older, is really relevant for everyone, or at least it was relevant to me. What I took from it was that, as we age, we change our perspective on how we see things, and how we practice our faith and spirituality. I wouldn't presume to dissect it, and the best way to know what he says is to listen to it:
http://norprov.org/spirituality/spiritualityforlateryears.htm. (It does get cut off at the end, sadly, right at the point where he says he is going to end on an "up" note!) When folks age, they do change their perspective of life. I have witnessed this myself, living, for ten years, in the retirement community of Sun City, AZ. The churches, without exception, were packed every single Sunday, unlike those churches and parishes in most of our communities (except for the mega-churches...a subject for another blog). Again, I used to smile at that fact, thinking that, well, the old codgers are getting close to death and it's time to get right with God. In effect, that's really true, although I might say it much less crudely and a bit more compassionately now.
It would be good to change that perspective much earlier in life, before getting old. To achieve a mature spirituality is certainly a goal towards which to strive. However, life experiences contribute to the maturity of our spirituality, and many of those life experiences, of course, come with age.
After I finished listening to this talk, I was filled with a bit more hope. I can't honestly say I'm happily anticipating old age and death. Frankly, that would be sort of sick. I think the only way to glide into old age gracefully is to to continue to nourish faith and focus on spirituality. I do worry that the doubts I have are indicative of, perhaps, a deficient faith; however, something Fr. Jerry said in this podcast really struck me: "In our later years I've come to that place where I have to say that I will not be saved by my fidelity. I will be saved by God's fidelity. It's the faithfulness of God that I have to embrace. The root of our fidelity is God's fidelity in God's never-ending willingness to begin again. No matter how often we fail, no matter how often we compromise, God is persistent in reaching out." I found that very hopeful, and an exceedingly wise insight. I do hope that when God is reaching out to me in my old age, He is patient. After all, I will be moving much slower. Who knows, I may be stuck on that slow moving chair wending its way up my stairs...
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