Retirement, Anyone?

Today, I decided to get my hair cut in order to give myself a lift. I went to a parlor where I'd been several times before and got a hairdresser who had cut my hair earlier in the year. She and I made small talk. I asked her about her work. She asked me about mine but quickly corrected herself.

"No," she stated. "You don't work. You're retired."

"RETIRED?" I shouted. "I'm not retired!" I retorted, feeling extremely annoyed. "I'm only 50," I lied. In fact, I'm 52. I'll be 53 in December but don't tell anyone because I have a slight hangup about my age.

When I turned 40, I lied about it for three years. Turning 40 was a crisis for me at the time. Now it seems like a cakewalk. I'd give anything to be turning 40 again! If you're about to hit the big 4-0 and you want to feel better about it, talk to someone who's turning 50! Or worse -- someone who's already entered her fifties.

"What's the big deal?" you ask. Well, in the first place it's insulting to be told you look 10 to 15 years older than you are, especially if you're female. In fact, I wish that I could post a picture of myself right now in order to prove to all of you how clearly ridiculous it is that I could have been mistaken for a retiree, but I'd be tempted to post a photo that was taken in the 1990s.

Secondly, there are still some dreadful connotations to the term fifty. It conjures up images of overfed, mature women who make lemon meringue pies and who allow streaks of gray to run rampant through their hair because they are so at peace with themselves and the aging process. They may already have grandchildren or have been married for up to a quarter of a century.

THAT'S NOT ME! I'm still single. I drive too fast. I listen to loud rock music in my car, swear too often and I like to shoot pool. I think of myself as relatively young until I look in the mirror. Even then, I don't see myself as old unless I'm standing right next to a 22-year-old.

I don't listen to Simple Plan, Nickelback or Coldplay because I'm trying to be cool. I've just never outgrown some of the interests that I've had since my teens. I'll probably be turning up my hearing aid in the retirement home, so that I can blast Sam Roberts on the radio.

But until then, I will kill the next person who offers me a senior discount! That's only happened once but it was one time too many. My best friend has been accepting the senior discount at the movies for years even though she's nowhere near 55. She just shrugs it off, laughs and is happy for the lower fare. I'm not interested in a reduced rate but I would like to borrow from her philosophy: we get old and then we die. I need to be grateful for everyday that I have on this earth and not to get stressed out about minor things like whether I look 45 years old to one person or 55 years old to another.

One thing about turning 50 is that I know that I'm way past living half of my life. That means that I should be a lot more careful about what I do with my time and who I spend it with. Life is a gift and life can be a bitch; it comes with a price tag. My advice? Forget about the numbers. Don't even think about how old or how young you are. What's important is what you get out of everyday -- and how much you give back.

Sigrid Mac

Sigrid, I just turned 50 in July and it boggles my mind that I'm 50. No way. Can't be. I still have all the 45's from my teen years - and most of it is still my favourite music! (I still play my Partridge Family CD when noone else is listening!)

I can't believe I'm 50. Sure, my body feels a bit decrepit, the knees don't work so good these days, and those grey hairs that MY hairdresser tried to highlight into hiding aren't quite as well-hidden as she assured me they would be. But it's only when I actually think about it that I know I'm 50. When I'm out and about, or just being me, I'm still the 20-something I enjoyed being back in the late 70's...or the bubbly, bouncy 30-something I was in Halifax. The knees don't quite match that inner perception, but I just can't reconcile that self to this 50-year-old self that I am now.

I wouldn't mind the senior discount, but can't associate the word senior to the woman I see in my mirror. I don't see a senior. I still see the hopes and dreams and I still wonder what I'm going to be when I grow up. I'm definitely not there yet. Probably should be, should have been a long time ago, but hey, I'm a late bloomer, and that's okay.

Girl, I can so relate. I don't like loud rock music, but listening to David Cassidy amounts to the same thing. Maybe we should get together for coffee one of these days and just see if anyone dares to offer either of us a senior's discount. If so, whoever gets the discount can pay...

Well, I'm 58 and my hair is still red and I drive a 1940 hot rod pick up and enjoy life. My neighbors always laugh because I'm either washing my hot rod or polishing my Harley. Age is all in the head!

Sharon, Seems as though you and I can identify. If it's any consolation, I will *always* be older than you and you can think of that when you feel bad :-)

Part of me laments my lost youth but more than anything, it's my health that I miss. I'm having serious problems with my knee but no one will replace it because the actual joint isn't shot but rather I have extensive soft tissue damage. Went back to the gym to get my muscles in shape and put my back out immediately, so I'm in agony right now.

Dianne -- you go, girl! Lead the way with your confidence and assurance and we will follow ;-)

Sigrid

P. S.

Sharon -- The Partridge Family? LOL! David Cassidy was cute, wasn't he?

I just turned 50 myself. I have arthritis in both hips and my hair is getting gray; I keep the gray hairs because I know I've earned every one, and because my husband likes me this way.

My (likely) future daughter-in-law calls me Mom, and she's 36, which does make me feel a bit old. But inside I still feel young in lots of ways, and I am determined never to stop learning and growing.

My husband and I will have been married 30 years next June and the honeymoon's not over -- the proceedings are just a little more sedate. Our philosophy is to enjoy life because we don't know what's down the road, or how long our time together will be. "Life is short, eat dessert first!" is becoming a catchphrase around here. We're spending Thanksgiving week cruising the Caribbean (hoping our favorite islands haven't been too badly damaged by the hurricanes) and catching just a little more sun before winter sets in.

Sigrid Mac

I didn't have an age crisis at 40. My sweetheart had just died suddenly, and I didn't give a rat's ---- about how old I was or what I looked like. It hit me at 50. I pouted, a lot. I pouted at 51 and 52, and 53. Now I'm 56. And I think, so what, so I'm 56. I see the lines and the sags in the mirror. The hip aches from a snowmobile accident when I was 19. Two of my finger are knobby. I have some white hair - it's turning wavey. I always wanted waves. I don't like the angel wings under my arms or the saggy boobs or the thin rippling layer of blubber over the muscles I work to keep. Even so, these days, I think, so what? So, I'm getting older. Now at family things I'm the older generation.

In my 30s after spending time with Aunt Lottie who was then in her 80s, I thought, when I grow up I want to be like Aunt Lottie. I still do. She lived to be 97. She didn't like her wrinkles either, but I saw the look in her eyes when I shared some of my troubles. She was beyond them. She had learned. She was my hero. I told her so when she was 93.

I'm getting better about the "aging sucks" concept. While I certainly don't like the body parts that are breaking down, I am so much happier now than I ever was at any earlier age. For me it's been about tackling each thing as it came along. Now I love me, but that wasn't always the case. It feels good to feel good about myself and who I am. I wouldn't trade that in on youth.

I'm charging and sometimes hobbling into old age, and in so many ways it's a good thing.

Vi

Vi,

So glad to hear that you are accepting of the aging process. Hope that my short article did not indicate that I have an attitude of "aging sucks." I don't! I just resented being thought of as retired when I'm at least 15 years away from retirement.

Also, one reason that I have a very hard time coming to terms with the passing decades is that I have been chronically sick and disabled since I was 28 years old. Therefore, there were many things that I may have wanted -- like a career, marriage, children, living on my own, financial stability -- that I was never able to achieve. These multiple losses and chronic pain and the prospect of imminent surgery looming ahead of me (my fifth major surgery!) makes it very hard for me to accept my age and stage in life.

Good to know that you have such a strong sense of self and that you're pleased with who you are. Me too basically, except for my illness.

Best, Sigrid

Sigrid,

Bummer about the disability. While I don't have chronic pain, I do have an intense problem with not sleeping - since menopause started 13 years ago. I learned from a male cousin who is 77 that he also has the problem as did our grandmother, Renie, and his mother my auntIda. Menopause is finally winding down, but I'm still exhausted a good deal of the time. My writing and my painting have kept me distracted, although creativity is best with sleep. I started painting 4 years ago. Turns out I ain't half bad, and I love it.

How do you manage your pain and disability? How do you get through it all?

One of the things I'm doing to adjust to aging is to write an old lady story - about 4 feisty old women who get into mischief. To be an old lady in my story you have to be at least 90. These are spry old women inspired by some down-home country women in my family. I just started writing it about a week ago. As I did, my paternal grandmother, Renie, and my paternal aunt, Ida, were with me. I felt them standing behind my chair. It was just so cool. And today when I walked I felt them on either side of me, holding onto my arms. Grandma died when I was 7, and I must have been 25 when Aunt Ida died. I think we need heroes now. I'm going to create some old lady heroes. This book is going to be for fun. Yea!

What all do you write? I just found your novel, D'Amour Road on your site - a book based on a tragedy. Sounds interesting. I wrote a book about the crimes my brother committed. After that I turned to fiction.

Something else just occurred to me. Maybe people have thought you are older than you are, not because you look older, per se, but because of your chronic pain. I know when I'm exhausted I look at least ten years older. What kind of surgery is looming? What is the source of your disablity?

Caring about you in Elkton.
Vi

Vi,

Your story about the feisty women sounds great. Your observation about my illness making me look or feel older is also very astute.

I think the day that my hairdresser asked if I was retired, I was using a cane. I don't manage the pain very well because I can't take pain killers -- only occasionally. So I just rest and try to stay off my leg, which is very frustrating!

My first book was all about how to recover from a total hip replacement. The second book sounds a lot more serious than it really is. Obviously, the subject matter is serious but I did try to add levity and develop my characters in a way that would not make the book horribly depressing.

Your work sounds great. Good luck with it :-)

Sigrid