Aging Gracefully

Among the many things I am doing this year, aging gracefully is certainly not one.

I have long observed that as people age ... we're talking over 65 here ... people tend to develop personality directions. Some, who have been impatient and hard charging actually appear to mellow and begin to enjoy a slower pace, a kinder slant. Others, who once prided themselves on their ability to get along, to cope, to deal with the slings and arrows, suddenly find that their patience has ebbed, their coping skills evaporated and their view of life on the planet grown dimmer.

I fit into the second category. And, I'm not the only one who has noticed it. Some of my nearest and dearest are finding it difficult to contend with.

Some of the causes include failing memory skills ("where have I put those durn keys this time");
or maybe the economic situation that requires a full time job (working for a man even older than I), and probably most notable, the realization that life is winding down, it has not been particular successful or fulfilling and the chance of improving the track record looks mighty slim. These are not mellowing ingredients.

Most of all, I find myself behaving in exactly the way my mother did (altho' she was much older when it became noticeable) and getting the same results in my childrens' behavior that I exhibited.

Further, when you start going to an increased number of funerals, or reading about old friends in various obituaries, the mortality of it all does impress. Maybe that's what makes me most impatient. I need to read more, write more, see more friends, keep track of grandchildrens' accomplishments, and remember to thank God for the ability to do it all.

Another day with temperatures over 100 degrees?

Great! That means that when my fingers can no longer type from sitting in such a cold office I can dash outside and try to get them working again.

After more than fifty years in Texas I cannot become accustomed to being colder in the summer than I am in the winter. One of the good reasons for locating from friendly Wisconsin to Texas was to get away from freezing cold winter weather. And, still, I have to remember to take a sweater to shop at the grocery store in July because it is so cold. Now I have the great good fortune to work in an office where the man with the AC power thinks anything above 71 is too darn hot.

I am a moderate person. I have the beginnings of unpleasant arthritis in hands and wrists. Nothing makes them hurt more than cold blowing air. Maybe that's why I am having such a hard time dealing with this cold summer weather! It is my opinion that being "hot" is quite unpleasant for many people, often people of some size. However, being cold is, for me, painful. Why doesn't painful trump unpleasant?

Target Shooting for Widowers

I think I have the makings of an espionage expose'.

Here's the scoop. Because there is an abundance of elderly women looking for male companionship there is also an exclusive male club designed to make use of the over-population.

My attempts to access the inner workings of the organization have been so far unsatisfactory but I am making progress. There probably is no hierarchy, by-laws or meetings called to order. I think it operates more casually, at ballfields, Optimist lunches, bowling lanes and beer gardens. There are no secret handshakes and no "red hats" to warn you in advance when you are being stalked by a member.

Best case scenario goes something like this: a widower, a year or more removed from his original grief decides that while he probably is not ready for a "real relationship" it would be a good idea to do a little target practice.

As an aside, it is sometimes bandied about that the men who were happily married are those most likely to get down to the business of finding a new wife, perhaps with little or no target practice. On the other hand, if said widower has remanufactured a busy life without said wife, target practice is the logical next step.

Another aside, since so many pitiful older lonely women are out there, this is not a very sophisticated hunt.

If said widower has been able to milk the "bereaved lonely widower" status for sometime resulting in friends and neighbors who regularly include him in their social events and offer support for home and travel plans, it makes the idea of target practice even more appealing.

So, this hunting adventure starts with a little "fishing trip". Just locate a likely mark and drop a little bait; maybe "would you like to see a movie" which means, not in my neighborhood and where it will be so dark no one will recognize me. Or if the mark has some usable skill, like tailoring, or computer geeking, it is possible to approach for that skill while keeping the greater goal unmentioned. And, just like fishing, if you bait the hook attractively and keep it moving, you can reel in your first "target."

In case you are wondering ... I am not bitter. I am not coping especially well with having gleaned this information and I am not giving up.