Don’t look decrepit, and pay for no U-Haul

Carole Marshall AGING IN GOOD SPIRITS
Posted 8/13/24

It was a casual conversation over lunch with the girls. We were catching up on the latest chatter. A bear was sighted on a popular hiking trail. Who’s shopped in the new store in town? Do we …

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Don’t look decrepit, and pay for no U-Haul

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It was a casual conversation over lunch with the girls. We were catching up on the latest chatter. A bear was sighted on a popular hiking trail. Who’s shopped in the new store in town? Do we really need another roundabout?

Getting into the topic of family, I shared that for the first time in years all my boys were coming home to visit at the same time. Everyone came home periodically as they could, and we visited them individually for great one-on-one time, but schedules made it difficult for all the children to gather with us en masse. A wedding in New England was our last reunion.

So, at lunch I went on about the fun we’d have with our three kiddos and their lovely ladies. There would be beach time, dining out, taking pictures, visiting old haunts and new sites, getting reacquainted with each other. I was excited about this upcoming get-together and casually said I had no idea how or why it came about when in between bites of burger lunch buddy Edie made a thought-provoking comment. “Maybe it’s an intervention,” she said.

My head went into overdrive. What usually prompts an intervention? Drug use, alcoholic tendencies, abusive relationships, destructive behaviors were issues that came to mind. But Edie wasn’t referring to any of the above, she was suggesting an aging intervention. The concept was scary, especially since two in my clan have professional hands-on geriatric experience.

My eldest son, a dentist, sees some of his declining patients in the nursing home facilities they’ve been moved to, and his wife is the executive director of an upscale senior living community. A few years back my lovely daughter-in-law took me through the place that accommodates folks through all aspects of old. It’s a beautiful center in the country that supports complete independence as well as assisted living if needed. As much as I enjoyed the tour, I remember feeling a bit uncomfortable and distinctly recall standing straighter, walking faster, speaking more clearly during our walk around an establishment that had little to do with me.

I quickly decided all my kids coming home together had nothing to do with an aging intervention, it was simply a good time for everyone to enjoy a wonderful family gathering. But my brain kept churning, formulating an agenda of autonomy. As funny as my friend’s comment was and as confident as I felt about my current good maturing plan, I decided to err on the side of caution and spruce up my act, determined to captain my own ship to the bitter end. Although I have an active, healthy lifestyle and don’t feel my age, there are a few senior habits that show up now and then. Getting in shape for the week would take a bit of work. I made a list.

Don’t groan when getting up from a chair - take a deep breath, count to five, exhale, stand with sturdy confidence. Ditch the ratty chenille bathrobe and dig out that youthful floral cover-up. Forgo the heavy-duty probiotic. Stand tall when going down the stairs, covering the white-knuckle grip on the railing with a sleeve. Put the loose comfortable camisoles aside and wriggle into the confining droop scooping lingerie. Stay up past 8 p.m. without nodding off. Don’t repeat what you said five minutes ago and call all offspring by the right name. Wait till they’re all out to go looking for misplaced items. No liquids after 6 p.m. to avoid bumping into one of them on a middle of the night trip to the bathroom. Keep the ego boosted with a favorite mantra. “Old is older than I am now.”

I’m ready and looking forward to their visit. My boys are wonderful, caring men who have always shown love and respect. I happily share my joys with them and trust them with any worries and concerns. I cherish this beautiful family; I cherish my independence as well which is why I’ll commit to memory my vow to never look decrepit when the kids come home. And dear Edie’s final comment at lunch has been comforting. “If they don’t pull up with a U-Haul you’re safe.”

Carole Marshall is a former columnist and feature writer for a national magazine. Her stories have been published in Chicken Soup for the Soul books. She’s written two novels and one fitness book. cmkstudio2@gmail.com