The Seattle times today has an Op-ed piece titled Don’t call baby boomers ‘elderly’ — try ‘late middle age.’ I guess labels do mean something, but we are all on a slope with an often blind trajectory. It’s probably a good thing that we don’t really know whether we’re late middle age, early elderly, elderly, or simply over-the-hill! All in all, worry about this seems like a silly attempt to prove that we are still not as old as those really old folks.
I must admit though that when AARP sent out its first notice to me at age 50 that it was quite a shock. But on quizzing my Dad at age 90, he teased me about still being a baby as I turned 60. Aging is a new progressively weird experience: sight and hearing grow dim, hair falls out or sprouts in strange places, new aches appear, etc. etc. etc. And we find ourselves beginning to look like and act like out parents – something we always said would never happen. My Mom always said that she felt like 18 on the inside – even in her 80’s. Now I believe her.
The article suggests that we are in “late middle age” until we reach 80. On that magic day we finally reach “elderhood.” So what happened on our last day in our 70’s. Did that final wrinkle finally mark us as old?
Labels can be important but the state of mind and body is more so. Personally I think it’s ageism to keep trying to apply labels to us.
My take: let’s just take that next birthday in stride and get on living for the next one.
Recently, I was in water walking class with three other women when I noticed a ‘senior’ male, I’d not met before, had joined us. As I prepared to call out to him a welcome to our class, he yelled out to our instructor, in a very disgruntled voice accompanied by a facial grimace, ” So I guess this is just going to be a class of old ladies?” I found his tone and wording quite insulting. Frankly, I am proud of my near 73 years on the planet and while knowing his words and tone would not change that, I experienced his comment and tone as insulting. I considered saying a number of things to him but settled with “So if you keep this up, you will find out how active and young we really are.” He was quiet after that but I continued to prepare for his next assault. And I wondered what he must be like as a husband, father, or friend— to women. So I stifled my series of prepared comments, feeling at least better that I was capable of fighting on behalf of verbally abused women of a ‘certain age’ if necessary and pleased that I also had the ability to exercise impulse control. After class, I asked other members of my class if they found his comment demeaning but they just dismissed it Perhaps they are just wiser or have learned to swallow more than I have. I considered he may have been in physical pain and was irritable or had a fight with a wife- if he has one. I thought why had he just not said, “Do men ever come to this class, too?” In any case, if something is offensive, I think it is also fair to set boundaries. Happily, at Skyline, I have had little need to do so.