NOT in the slow lane, YET

The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will be health, retirement, fashion, travel, and living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose. Come walk with me.

Is loneliness an inevitable part of aging?

What if all my friends and family die before I do?

What will I do if I open my address book and see that the names of my friends and family have been crossed out?  All of them.   What would I do if I were alone? I recently looked at my address book and saw many crossed-out names. My memory goes back to my grandfather, who lived in his mid-nineties with no friends. 

  “He was lonely,” she said.  “ I took him to visit Tony, his last friend. Now, Tony is gone.  All he has is his newspapers and his pipe.”  

Mom was talking about Grandpa George, her father, who lived with us on our Wisconsin dairy farm and died in his mid-nineties.  I remember him sitting in his chair, a six-foot-tall, thin, white-haired old man.  Staring into the distance,  circles of rising smoke from the pipe in his hand.  Few people lived to be that old in the 1960’s.  It must have been very lonely for him.  

Those of us living into our eighties, nineties, and older may find we are without old friends and family. This can be a profoundly isolating experience. 

Like my grandfather,  I treasure friendships.  Old friends restore memories that are fading or long lost.  I am lucky to have a handful of friendships up to fifty, sixty, or even seventy years. They are people who understand me, my youthful struggles, and my triumphs. Some friends have died, and some are not well.  Some have faded away.  Holiday cards come back with no forwarding addresses. I search obituaries, looking for them.  I wish I could find them. 

I resolve to be mindful of nurturing current friendships and making new ones, even if I am 90 or older. My mom lived to 101.

Sharing memories helps me find meaning in my life.

My first significant friends outside the family were my high school friends Fern, Sandy, and Barb.  We were in the dance club and band, sometimes acting in the same plays, and often, arm and arm, we strolled around the school, sometimes dressing in the same color sweaters or some other sign of camaraderie.  Sandy and Barb lived in Medford, so Fern and I, farm girls,  sometimes stayed with them for after-school events.   We went to different colleges, married, and stayed connected with holiday cards and an occasional get-together like a class reunion.  Sandy’s cards from Minnesota ended five or so years ago.  Two years ago, our cards to Barb returned with no forwarding address. Fern and I corresponded sparingly for many years but easily connected a few years ago through telephone and email.  Now, we try to connect more often.

We know our time for friendship is short.

I plan to nurture my present relationships and seek new ones. 

I can now spend time on friendships. I didn’t have much time to do that when raising a family and working. My friends were family, neighbors, and work friends.

I try to connect with old friends through newspaper articles about our old town or a memory of them they might have forgotten.   I plan to focus on being a good friend—the kind of friend I want to have.   I will share and ask for help.  What happened to someone we knew?  Do they have the contact information of the person?  I see that their Facebook account seems to have been hacked.  I let them know.

I wrote a memoir that brought back old connections.  Gannet Newspapers reviewed Remembering Rosie: Memories of a Wisconsin Farm Girl. Among the people who read the review was my first love. He was the first boy I kissed.  I discovered I was the first girl he kissed.  He was the most handsome boy I had ever seen.  Both of our spouses died, and we were free to share memories and create a warm relationship.  We feel happy to have one another as friends, even though we are distant and planted where we are.  He brings back memories of my teenage years.   He vehemently disagreed with my self-description of being a frail 89-pound 14-year-old.  He took me skiing.  He said I  bravely took off down the mountain. He thought  I would kill myself.   He helped me swim out to a  floating pier in the lake  when my only swim lesson was my dad tossing me in waist-deep lake water, shouting,  “Swim, swim!” 

I changed the tapes that had played in my head for seven decades. I created a new narrative of my young self as strong and brave.

Call an old friend from high school.

Do you still have a crush on your high school boyfriend or girlfriend? Someone can help you find the person. You may be rejected, but what do you have to lose?

Think of your high school classmates.  Who would you like to reconnect with? Connect because you genuinely want to know this person.  They won’t be the youth you knew in high school, but you may share memories that will inform, amaze, and entertain you.  Engage the person in talking about himself—where he lives, his health, whether he is in contact with other people from your high school, and whether he would like to stay connected.  How will you stay connected?  By telephone, email, or texting?  Share a memory or two of a recent meeting with an old friend from high school, but mostly have the person talk about himself. Most of us warm up to that kind of dialogue.  

Nurture current friendships.

Focus on being a good friend—the kind of friend we want to have—someone who listens, cares, supports, is sincere,  and makes little acts of kindness—a birthday card, an invitation to lunch, a book I  might like.  Make regular contact.  It is easy for friendships to fade away.  It is hard to rekindle friendships.

Stay active and engaged.

Actively try to meet new friends through clubs like book clubs, birding clubs, bridge clubs, and activities like poetry writing, walking groups, volunteering, and charities.  What do you enjoy?  Find a group that enjoys it. You are likely to find a friend among the people in the group.

Remember loved ones who are no longer here.

Our friends and family members may die before we do.  Whether they’ve moved or passed away, take time to think about them and acknowledge your loss.  When I walk in the morning, I look into the sky, and  I say, “Good morning” and “I love you”  to my two beloved sons, who died of cancer in the last four years.   I  begin the day with a loving memory. 

Connection with others is vital to alleviating feelings of isolation and sadness. 

My mom had no old friends in her later years, but she was good at making friends with younger people.  I asked the director of her assisted living residence if she was, at 100, the oldest person there.  She said, “Your mother is younger than many of our eighty-year-olds.”  I hope people say that about me.

Tell your friends you are so happy to have them in your life.  Tell them why.  You may not have another opportunity.

NOT in the slow lane, YET
The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will be health, retirement, fashion, travel, and living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.comor by email if you choose. Come walk with me.

Memories of my parents, in verse

Dad’s Acceptance of Death

Dad lived to be 93 years old. In his last ten years, he developed Parkinson’s Disease and Lewy Body Disease.  His smile disappeared, and his face was stuck in an expressionless mask.  He was sick and sad, ready to die.   

When friends asked him about his health, he said, “I don’t buy green bananas anymore.”

This is my response.

On Buying Green Bananas

I am old, older than old.

My body whispers my decline, 

slow steps, stumbles, a forgotten name.

My hand shakes, my voice trembles,

My ears are unreliable for sound.

Yet, a youthful spirit shines within.

Teal feathers flash in my white hair,

Red-orange lipstick blazes on my lips.

I master new computer programs,

Count my steps with a smartwatch.

Perhaps my body lies,

for I still buy green bananas,

defiant, not ready for death.

Mom did it her way.

Mom was a strong lady, unflinching at the thought of death. She was lively and funny through her 90s. She seized every opportunity to find a lovely dress with matching accessories, have her brandy old-fashioned, and take a trip to the Casino.

When she was 101, she lost the desire to fight death.  She complained that animals were treated better than humans. She was in pain and wanted to go quickly.  She wanted hospice.  Her exit plan was a visit from the spa lady for a manicure and pedicure, many shakes of salt on her food, and a brandy old-fashioned. Then, the hospice nurse arrived.

This is my memory of my mom from her last years.

Mom at 100

Almost blind and deaf

Strong hands gripping her walker.  

Iron will moves her. 

Have you thought about reading, even writing, about old age?

I enjoyed this poetry website about old age.

Academy of American Poets

Note:  Ai Gemini Editing Tools used: 8-24-24

NOT in the slow lane, YET
The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will be health, retirement, fashion, travel, and living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.comor by email if you choose. Come walk with me.

QUARANTINE CHRONICLES: Through the eyes of Zoom, Our family triumphed over gloom.

Zooming has been a family ritual for three years.  COVID made us want more contact with family.  We were lonely. 

Dave sets up the Zoom sessions for four o’clock on Fridays.  We rush home or rush from our recliners to the computer monitor.  No need to put on make-up,  a new shirt, or a cute outfit. It’s family.  Pour a glass of wine, take off your shoes, and join five Ludwig siblings in their seventies and eighties having fun, reminiscing, and even drafting a book. 

Conversation is easy in our family.  Someone throws a barb.  ”Hey Dave, where did you get that tee shirt?  One of your estate sales finds? You need to scout out different neighborhood sales.”   “Hey Barb, did you finally figure out how to text?”   We tell stories and jokes. We share new hairdos, and minute face lifts that work.  We share worries.  PSA readings, torn rotator cuffs, and cancer problems. Lynda, the second youngest sibling is the chief caregiver and gives the nanny advice, unsolicited. We try to stay away from politics.  It is hard to do.   It’s a loving family and we work at keeping it that way.  

Zoom came at a challenging time.

At the beginning of 2020, the country was in a depressive state… We were increasingly partisan, losing faith in institutions and worried about the country’s economy and direction. We had become more isolated, less likely to be church-going, and less interested in joining community service clubs or other social organizations.  We were lonely and becoming more so.  Some of us were leading difficult personal lives.  My youngest son was dying of cancer. My husband broke his hip. He was in rehab and had dementia.  I was trying to find an assisted living place for him. No one would take him.  It was about to get worse.  

On January 31, 2020, the Secretary of Health and Human Services (HHS) declared a public health emergency.  COVID was here. 

Seven years earlier in January 2013, Zoom Video Communications, Inc. launched their video conferencing software.  By the end of its first month, Zoom had 400,000 users. In less than six months, there were  one million users.  When we were locked in our homes with our loneliness and depressive states,  Zoom helped us reach out to families to bring back safe, and joyful family experiences and fellow workers to create productive work experiences. 

Conquering Gloom with Zoom.

The Ludwig family siblings, 72-87 years,  in Ohio, California, and Florida spend a half hour every Friday afternoon sharing stories and jokes. We slip back into familiar family roles. We love to talk. We enjoy being silly, and witty, and making our siblings laugh.   We share the great wisdom gathered from our long lives. 

Sometimes we are nostalgic.  We talked about growing up on a Wisconsin dairy farm where we learned hard work and responsibility and found the joy of a job well done. Children are the family farm workforce. Pulling weeds, picking rocks, mowing hay fields, baling hay and straw, detasseling corn, milking cows, feeding chickens, and collecting their eggs. Sitting down was strongly discouraged. There was too much to do and mom had a list for us. 

We laugh and become the children we once were.  We joke about who was spoiled, who hid in the bathroom to avoid work, and who was bossy.   Memories of our childhood exploits. Barbara got us excused from eating liver by throwing up on the dining room table when it was served.  The three oldest children plugged up the teacher’s car tailpipe with potatoes,  turned on the school radio, and slipped into our desks before it warmed up and scared everyone.  The principal caught me and hit my hands with a ruler.   We were sent to weed the quarter-acre garden for hours for arguing or questioning authority. Gardening punishment mended our friendship. We agreed we had evil parents.  We decided to make peanut butter sandwiches, run away, and live in the woods. Barbara reminded us that black bears lived in the woods.

We talk about our children and grandchildren.  That takes a while.  We have twelve children, eighteen grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren. There are new grandniece and grandnephew babies to celebrate.  Stories from Lin about his precocious grandchildren.  Luna, a Taylor Swift look-alike, age 8 just beat every one of the six boys in her ju-jitsu class and no one will fight her.  The rest of us bring brag stories that sibs tolerate.

Lin fills us in on hometown news stories.  It’s hard to believe there could be murders and mayhem in our quiet, rural growing-up place in Central Wisconsin.  Poverty, homicides and suicides, the proliferation of guns, and drug abuse are part of a darker story of what’s happened to rural communities that have been left behind. 

Zoom helped us draft a book.

In 2020, I decided to write a book about growing up on a Wisconsin dairy farm in the 1950s. The idea had gnawed in my brain for a few years. I wanted to make sense of my life.   It gave me a purpose during the COVID lockdown. In l950, seventy percent of the country was rural. One-room schools, small farms, few opportunities for jobs other than farming, little expectation of advanced education for women, little mental stimulation, narrow-mindedness, and few ways to learn about the world. Television arrived during my high school years, and we began to see people living and thinking differently.  The population was changing.  People were moving to cities.   I wanted to do that.

 I wanted to leave the four-generation farm where I grew up. I knew as a child that I would not be a farmer.  I would not marry a farmer.   I hated the cruelties of animal life, the demanding work with poor pay, and the resistance to change in rural communities. I wanted bright lights.  My dad wanted me to marry the richest farmer’s son.  Mom saw my life as a secretary at a fancy hotel in Milwaukee. My wanting to leave was a disappointment for them.   I also knew that I learned valuable life lessons living on a farm, lessons that served me well during my life.  

I submitted my writing for our weekly Zoom meetings.  My siblings read my memories and often disagreed.  “Did we grow up in the same house?” they asked me.  They delighted in giving their memories. Their memories added immensely to the book. It was written with stitched-together memories.  It helped us understand each other. We kept our watch on our family through Zoom eyes.  We grew closer together even though we were far away.

Our casual, comforting time communicating on Zoom made us laugh and, sometimes,  made us cry.  It made us feel fortunate to have such a great family.   I was happy to complete the book and get it published.  A Gannett Newspaper reviewer called it a “Feminist Farm Memoir” and thought I was working out my relationship with my mother.  He was right.  It made our family closer in the twilight of our lives.  We intend to keep Zooming.

BENEFITS OF ZOOM MEETINGS:

Family rituals are important. Regular video meetings provide a family ritual that brings us closer to family.

Regular family video meetings can help reduce loneliness and isolation, especially for older people. It can be more important than therapy and medication.

A developmental milestone for older adults is making sense of one’s life, finding meaning in one’s existence, and adjusting to death according to a theory by the psychologist and psychoanalyst Erik Erikson.  Sharing family stories helps us to understand our lives and gives them meaning and purpose.

HOW TO GET YOUR ZOOM MEETINGS STARTED: 

Talk to a family member who might like to do a weekly or monthly family Zoom.  The person can help you get your plan started.  Thirty-minute Zoom sessions are free. Put together siblings or cousins, family members of a similar age.

Think about how they might be structured.  

You could give a conversation starter question each time to break the ice for a discussion.

If the family group is older, they are likely to enjoy talking about  memories of:

Who was your best friend in elementary school or high school?  What did you like about the person?  What happened to them?

What was your best gift as a child?  Why?

What traditions did you like in our family?  What was your favorite holiday in childhood?

Did you have a mentor?  Who was it and why was that person important to you?

Other ideas that could be considered would be. 

Food theme:  Cooking dinner (same or different menu), eating and sharing recipes or ordering pizza and eating together. 

Clothing theme:  Wear a hat. Dress for a luau.  Wear your favorite shirt or blouse. 

Guess the name:   Each write up in fewer than 100 words a bio of a famous person and see if the rest can guess who it is.

Play Bingo together!

Draft a story (or book) together about your childhood. Each submits short stories on subjects like school, family traditions, and what your childhood taught you. Read/discuss these on Zoom.

DO YOU HAVE A PLAN?  GIVE IT A TRY!    

If you need to learn how to host a Zoom meeting for the first time, go to Zoom.  

https://www.makeuseof.com/host-zoom-meeting-desktop-web-mobile/

If you need more help, check with your grandchildren.  They are sure to be able to help you.

Note:  The book that was written during COVID with the help of my family was:

Block, Nadine.    Remembering Rosie:  Memories of a Wisconsin Farm Girl,  Page Publishing, Inc., Conneaut Lake, PA, 2021. Available on Amazon and most bookstores.

Note:  Gemini tools for editing were used 7-15-24.

    

NOT in the slow lane, YET 

The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences, thoughts, and concerns. Topics of blogs will include health, retirement, fashion, travel, and living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose.

Healing a hole in the heart: Love and loss of adult children

Losing adult children is one of the most traumatic experiences an older person can face.

I was sobbing when I called my mother on October 4th, 2013.  I told her that Greg, her grandson, and my youngest son (age 47)  had just been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer.  I blurted out what was said to me by my daughter-in-law.   He had been getting ready for a run in preparation for a triathlon.  As he was leaving, he had a seizure on the front lawn of their Atlanta home.  He was rushed to the hospital where he woke up to find he had six months to live—the diagnosis:  small-cell lung cancer metastasized to his brain.  We ended the call with both of us still sobbing.

I called my mother the next day still in shock, but calmer.  After a few words of consolation, she said, “Greg went to heaven and saw Franklin (his grandfather).  Franklin looked up from his crossword puzzle and said, “What the hell are you doing here?”  I smiled.  I  admired my 98-year-old Mom’s resilience. 

I would need her resilience.  

Over the next eleven years, Greg would die after seven years of harrowing cancer treatments, cut, burn, and poison treatments. He was also in clinical trials in Boston over the years.   His older brother Steve received the devastating and distressing diagnosis of metastasized prostate cancer and would die in May 2024. I was shocked and in deep pain. They were part of my body ripped out prematurely.  Gone.  Losing children was the most traumatic thing that happened to me in my life.  I felt guilty.  It is the wrong order.  I was supposed to go first.  It is happening to people my age because we are living longer. 

I was lost in grieving. 

I went through emotions of shock, anger, resentment, loneliness, physical and mental distress. I bristled with anger that God failed me and wondered how I failed God.  I suffered from anticipatory grief, the kind of grief that can be caused by a terminal diagnosis that is felt by people dying and their family and friends. It is unrelenting and powerful. I had intrusive thoughts of death at a family dinner, driving by a cemetery, in a nightmare, or at a church service, or wedding, when I woke at dawn.  It put a pall over everything in my life.

 Grieving doesn’t begin at death.  I grieved for eleven years before my sons’ deaths.

 When Steve told me he would die, my first words were, “Who will hold my hand when I am dying?”   He was the family member who did that. He comforted the dying.   I immediately felt guilty for my self-absorption.   I cascaded from grief, guilt for being here when they would not be, my vulnerabilities and loneliness, and the heartbreak of their families, both with still-young children. I felt alone. I wasn’t sure I could bear the pain.

My sons were fighters and refused to succumb to pessimism. 

Greg thought he would be able to treat cancer like diabetes.  He was used to busting through walls to meet goals.  Ever hopeful.  Two weeks before he died he was on a treadmill with his oxygen cannulas flying behind him.   Steven made a goal of living long enough to see his sons graduate from college and would accept horrible “Hail Mary Pass” treatments if needed. Some treatments put him in the hospital for days at a time. Surgeries and infusions left him near death.    He was able to watch one son graduate via streaming a few days before he died.  Cancer flattened him at 62 years before he could see his second son’s graduation.  

It was so hard not to let my emotions join their valiant efforts.  

A moment of hope.  The brief time when cancer wasn’t spreading.   Dashed again.  Another lab rat treatment.  More hope and more despair. Again, and again.  I tried not to take the rollercoaster ride.   How can a mother not be whip-sawed by these emotions?  I absorbed the pain of my sons trying to live, trying every available cancer treatment no matter how intrusive, looking for the next treatment to give them a couple of months, even a couple of weeks of life.   

The worry gnawed on me and stole my sleep.  I spent hours frantically trying to find cancer treatments for Greg.  I learned that my work was unnecessary and caused additional worry for him.   Greg told me he was doing fine in his searches. When they started a new treatment, he and his wife began looking for the next one.  Until there was no next one.   Steve not only understood the treatments but the research and medical language.  I stopped trying to be a doctor.  I was careful about the questions I asked and the comments I made.   I tried to keep my language and conversations positive and calm.  I sent family photos of good times together and carefully chosen jokes.  I walked a tightrope of fear that I would do something that made their terrible journeys worse.  

God wasn’t through with me yet. 

 During this same period, my second husband was diagnosed with vascular dementia.  He often fell out of his wheelchair and required many trips to the ER. The assisted living staff constantly called me to deal with his behavior:  running away, taking cabs to buy cars he wasn’t supposed to drive, and smoking in his room.   It was the only care facility of twenty I visited that would take him.  I was afraid they would kick him out.  I tried to deal with him using reason, a non-starter. I didn’t know what else to do. I was losing weight and drinking weight-gain shakes.  I developed blinding headaches.  Anxiety medications did not work.  They made me worse. They gave me facial tremors.   My background is in psychology, and I knew what I was supposed to do.  My brain knew that, but it didn’t translate messages to my heart.  I prayed. Why was God not there for me? 

Slowly, my resilience emerged. 

 It didn’t just drop from the sky or get squeezed out of my “mom” genes.  I intentionally sought peace and good health.  

I decided I must cure myself through healthy living and thinking.  

I started using controlled breathing during walking to quiet my mind.  I walked miles every day and still do.  I resumed meditation.  

I had Zoom sessions with my sons.  Covid made visits almost impossible, and they lived far from me.   Zoom helped me to hear and see them even in the end-stage ravaged with cancer.  I told them they were the most beautiful things I ever saw. 

I had a Zoom session with my four siblings every week.  We still do that.  My living son, Jeff,  and my four siblings are my main support.  

My husband died in 2021 relieving me of caregiving and providing him peace and an end to suffering.  

I searched for positive meaning.

I allow anger and sadness to enter my mind briefly, but not for long.  I take a controlled breathing walk, meet with friends, shop online, or paint.  I do whatever it takes to break my depressed mood.

I keep busy with our senior community life.  I serve as an elected resident council member.   I chair the art committee. I write. I paint with oil mostly from travel memories and my style is often semi-abstract landscapes.  This keeps my thoughts and actions positive.  

I began to see how lucky I was to have these wonderful children.  I am proud of their lives. Theirs were not long lives but they were well-lived.

Their obituaries were a joy to read.   They were philanthropic, caring, and respected in their communities.  Among newspaper articles about them:

“Greg Block, 54, an entrepreneur who gave back, dies”. Atlanta Journal-Constitution, August 20, 2020, and

“Former Belvedere Councilmember Steve Block was active community volunteer,” The Ark, May 22, 2024. 

I visualize them in the sky with their angels on my morning walk. The sky looks different from the grey days of their illness.  It is bright with bands of yellow, orange, and red.   My beloved sons wave and give me their beautiful smiles. They are surrounded by light.  Their angels put their arms around them and turn them back into the clouds.  They run through the heavens, throw balls and barbs at one another, see if they can wrestle the other to the ground as they did as teens, laugh a lot, and look out for one another. When the time comes, I will meet them on the other side of the river and laugh at their antics again.  I smile and keep walking.

Grieving is a process. 

I sometimes see one of their photos on my iPhone. I can’t look at them…anger surges through me, a vengeful anger without a focus.   

I know this will go away.  

I know there will be good days and bad days.  I know I will find peace…in time.  

Have you lost an adult child?  What was your grieving experience?  What would you tell someone who is grieving for a lost child? You can contact me at:

https://www.nadineblock.com/?page_id=37     My website is www.nadineblock.com

Do you want to know more about controlled breathing for stress relief?

Deep breathing, or breathing with your diaphragm, can help you to manage stress.

“Reducing Stress Through Deep Breathing”   

Johns Hopkins Medicine

“Breath control helps quell errant stress response”      

Harvard Medical School Health letters              July 6, 2020

 

NOT in the slow lane, YET

The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will be health, retirement, fashion, travel, and living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose. Come walk with me.

Do we have unfinished business?

Asking “Do we have unfinished business?” can be a  way to mend relationships. It may be an old friend whose relationship disappeared after a disagreement or to rekindle a withered-away friendship with a  relative,   or to an adult child who hasn’t spoken to you in years. 

 It can bring resolution and forgiveness. It can also end in disaster.    I don’t recommend it without a great deal of self-reflection:  Why do I want to do his?  How will I do it and what will I do if I don’t like the answers I get?  Here’s my experience.

My time to ask.

Two of my three sons died of cancer within the last four years. The latest son’s death is still raw.  The sight of browning,  dry white rose petals falling from funeral arrangements  on  my table  puts me in  tears.  Before they died, I wanted my sons to know how much I loved them.   I told them I will remember them every day I am breathing.  I will remember how they enriched my life.  

 For over three years, I’ve greeted my deceased youngest son in the clouds on my walk at dawn.  I look up to see his beautiful face and outstretched hand waving “Hi Mom.”  I tell him I love him.   His angel puts her arm around him and turns him into a cloud.  A month ago, I told him that his brother would be coming soon and asked him to find a nice angel for him.  Now a new face appears, my beloved oldest son smiling and waving, “Hi Mom.”  He is backlit by the morning sun coming up on the horizon. It’s a glorious vision.   I give my greetings and say, “Take care of one another. I love you.”  Their angels guide them into the clouds. I  start my day  with loving thoughts of my departed sons.  

There were eleven continuous years  of their battles with cancer.  We had many conversations by phone , zoom and visits.  Some were deep conversations:  death, regrets, and hopes.  We had laughs and shared memories.  I wondered if they had any lingering pain or resentments from childhood.  I wanted to resolve  parenting  issues unknown to me or forgotten.. not apologized for.  I wanted to listen, reflect on their responses, and give them sincere apologies.   How would I know unless I asked? I wanted closure. For each of us.  Their father died of cancer in his 60’s. He was out of the conversation.

 I questioned my motives.  Why did I need to do this?  Was it self-serving like curiosity, getting praise, or getting guilt off my back? 

As the oldest child of five in a Wisconsin farm family, I grew up with a lot of responsibility, a desire to please and a strong work ethic. I wanted to be a good mother.  All of us make mistakes in family and friend relationships.    Sometimes I  have been too hard on myself.   I made parenting errors  and mistakes in other relationships,  but I try not to dwell on them.  If I can, I try to fix relationship problems.  

Sometimes I was a mother who was tired, preoccupied, worried and not able to be in the present when she needed to be.  The three boys were born within the first six years of our marriage. We were young parents.  They were all born in our twenties.    I am a pretty calm person but  sometimes emotions, on both sides,  run high and we make poor choices as parents and children. I am sure I  upset them in unintended ways that led to  pain, and unfulfilled needs.   I needed to ask.     

Because sometimes I think back on times that made me weep.

I remember the youngest son, a pre-teen,  lying on the floor with his head on the back of King, our German Shepherd,  staring through the window of the patio door into the back yard abutting  a large parkland.  He seemed so deeply and sadly  in thought that I cringed and didn’t ask.  Why didn’t I ask?   I didn’t fully commiserate with the older boys when girls dumped them, or they got in trouble at school.  One of the boys was being bullied and slammed his  locker door into the bully.  He was suspended for two days.  I took time off work to sit home with him for the suspension.  We  worked at the kitchen table, he did his homework, and I wrote  reports.   Did I sermonize or did I discuss it with him and try to help him come to better solutions?    Doesn’t everyone hate bullies and want to get even?   If we  talked openly,  I don’t remember.  It  could have been  a sermon and silence from Mom, not a discussion.  

I hoped I wouldn’t act defensively to their responses to “Do we have unfinished business?   If I wanted them to be at peace from the hurt, I had to practice a peaceful reception to their pain, their anger, and their longing for better parents.  I warned  myself to listen and use “I” statements like “I felt hurt when …” and tried to get them to do the same, to talk about feelings.   I wanted to reflect on their experiences and respond in a way that they could let it go.  

If I were shocked or hurt, I would ask for time to think about it and get back to them.   

In individual conversations,  I asked the question.  

Both sons answered “no” to “ Do we have unfinished business?”

One said so joyfully.  It seemed heartfelt. 

The other son said “no” hesitantly.

I waited to see if he wanted to go on.  He didn’t offer additional comments.  I didn’t push.  His cancer treatments were becoming more invasive, and he had lots of things on his mind. 

I didn’t entirely achieve what I was seeking, closure and forgiveness.  I had asked for forgiveness by my question.  It is never too late to ask for forgiveness for causing unintentional pain or not fulfilling the needs of close family members and friends.   I felt better for making the effort. 

 I didn’t get to have a “do over.”

 They  died of cancer.  One was 54 and one was 62: too young. I am so glad they were part of my life.    

I am glad I asked the question, “Do we have unfinished business?”

Are you facing your own end of life or that of a loved one?  Or an estranged friend?  A family member?

Is it time to ask,” Do we have unfinished business?”

 Are you ready for an answer that may trouble you?  How will you react?  What is your plan?

Want to know More?

Websites:

National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) resources on family support and healing from childhood trauma.

The American Psychological Association’s guide to understanding childhood emotional neglect.  

Psychology Today’s directory of therapists specializing in childhood trauma and attachment issues. 

Book: 

The Body Keeps the Score:  Brain, Mind and Body in the Healing of Trauma” by Bessel van der Kolk, MD.

Note:  Gemini editing tools used 5-20, 5-24-24

NOT in the slow lane, YET 

The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will include health, retirement, fashion, travel, and  living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose.

Unleash your Granny Power:  Change the World

Are you feeling a little restless, a little lonely, and wishing you had something that made you want to get up in the morning?  

 Have you ever said, “I wish someone would tackle that problem” ?  Maybe that someone is you!  Using your Granny Power for a positive impact  could make your life more interesting, keep your mind sharp, and help reduce loneliness.  

See how grannies and grandpas are making  a positive impact.  

Meet grannies who changed the world. 

Swiss grannies won a huge climate case victory on April 9th, 2024.   Swiss Senior Women for Climate Protection  won  the first ever climate case victory in the European Court of Human Rights.  The Court is  an international court of the Council of Europe that affects 700 million Europeans in member states. The court ruled that Swiss citizens were harmed by the  government’s  inadequate efforts to meet its emission reduction targets.  The case sets a precedent that states in the Council of Europe are legally bound to cut  emissions to protect human rights.  It is already having a ripple effect as more cases are being filed.

The sixty-five year and older ladies began their campaign by educating themselves about the effects of climate change and current laws.  They scheduled meetings with legislators carrying cookies and other treats  and using their granny persuasive tools to inform them about climate change and what needs to be done. The campaign went beyond granny smiles and goodwill. They sued the Swiss Government.  Their legal  action said, “We are serious, knowledgeable, and persistent.  We know how to fight.” 

 It’s hard to keep down determined grannies. 

Meet grannies and grandpas who changed their communities.  

Alan Law, feeding the hungry:

Alan Law learned about the poor and homeless as a Minneapolis middle school teacher.  He is now retired but he spends time from evening until mid-morning on the streets of Minneapolis distributing 6-700 sandwiches  from the back of his minivan to poor, vulnerable families. He works at night when homeless shelters are closed.  He is the sole delivery person.  He created a nonprofit, Minneapolis Recreation Department, in 1967 with no salaries for serving the poor.  Its  office is in his small apartment which has walls of freezers to hold frozen sandwiches. He has received national recognition from three presidents and many other awards.

Inez Killingsworth, fighter for homeowners: 

Inez Killingsworth was a janitor who became a  statewide fighter for homeowners.  She helped homeowners who were victims of unfair and abusive loan terms  in Cleveland, Ohio.  Her nonprofit, East Side Organizing Project began negotiating  with banks in 1993 for lower interest rates, fee waivers and fairer payment plans. She threw plastic sharks at bankers and posted their cell numbers (Cleveland Plain Dealer,  Jan. 18, 2013).  She took her local project statewide.  She died in 2013, a hero to homeowners.

See these stories online at  The Daily Good Organization.org.

Why should you use your granny power to make the world better?

Aiding others  can help reduce loneliness,  meet  new, interesting friends, and get you to learn unfamiliar writing, speaking and computer skills.  It will make you feel good!  

 I experienced  all those effects in leading  a successful two-decades-long effort to get a legislative ban on Ohio school corporal punishment (2009).  It took grit,  persistence, confidence in our mission,  and the ability to build a constituency.  After many years of failures, a  PBS reporter asked me if I was going to come to the State House  in my wheelchair someday.  I said, “If I have to, I will.”    I was seventy-three  when paddling was finally banned in Ohio.  I am thrilled that more than a million and a half children  go to Ohio public schools with no fear of being hit with  boards. I met many interesting people, kept my mind sharp, learned new skills in writing, speaking and computer programs, and made a small step in making the world better. 

Where do you start? 

What are you passionate about?  What comes to mind when you think of something that needs to be done to help your community or country?  

I became passionate about banning school corporal punishment when I saw a child being paddled in a school where I was serving as a school psychologist.  It was the first time I saw an adult (the principal)  hit a child across the buttocks with a board. I couldn’t do anything because Ohio law did not allow school districts to ban it.  I hoped someday I could help change that.  I knew it was ineffective and harmful.  It was a winning cause.  We started with no support from educator organizations and little public support. We learned how to  change hearts and minds. It was challenging but  satisfying work. Our tools were science, treating opponents with respect, well-thought-out campaigns, being truthful in our presentations and materials, and persistence.  We agreed to incremental gains in bills that would have failed until we finally wore down our opponents and got a complete  ban. 

Some possibilities for improving the lives of older adults:

 Improving the life of older adults in my community  who live alone and/or have limited means:

 Improving  health, security, affordable  places to live, transportation, medication, home maintenance and cleaning,  and nutrition.

 Possible global and state actions:

   Sensible gun control laws, Climate change, Ageist attitudes, and Elder abuse.

Engage in a little self-reflection.

What are the strengths and abilities you have to offer?   Are you a good leader of people?  Can you educate and  persuade people?  Can you write well?  Are you persistent? Are you a life-long learner? Are you  social media savvy? These are strengths and skills that make you an influencer.  You don’t need to have them at the start.  You will learn them as you become active. 

Choose your cause and learn about it.

You don’t have to have a grand goal for change, there are community problems waiting for someone to work on, a new library, more community services for people living alone, increasing senior housing, or getting transportation for seniors for medical appointments. If you have a grand goal like sensible gun laws, reducing child abuse, or increasing medical care for old people in Medicare, Medicaid, and the Affordable Care Act, you don’t have to do it alone. You can work through a large organization.

If researching on the internet is hard, ask a younger person.  A grandchild, niece, nephew, or neighbor could help you.  Seeing an older person with a thirst for knowledge and change is a powerful lesson for youth. You may want to check with a college computer program to see if you can hire a student to teach you social media skills.   I’ve learned computer programs that way at my own speed.

Are you interested in community issues or national campaigns? 

Community Issues:

If it’s a community issue, attend public meetings on it.  Do preparation.  Find out who the key speakers are and what their point of view is.   Prepare questions. Dress professionally.  Arrive early.  In public comment periods, make your responses brief and concise.  Listen and take notes.  See what can be done, what is impeding change and how you can  help.   Join local organizations that can help you and even give you some activities to engage in like letter writing, fundraising, and putting together groups to educate about the issue.  

National Issues: 

If it’s a national issue  you want to unleash your granny power on, join organizations to help you understand the issue, what changes are needed and how you can help.  Online research on national organizations may give you names of state and local organizations you can help. You may learn some new skills or keep up your current skills. Writing letters to editors and government officials, making calls to raise support for a cause, fundraising, and sharing petitions and your story with others will expand your horizons. 

The following organizations advocate for seniors as part or all the mission.

American Association for Retired Persons (AARP)

National Council on Aging (NCOA)

The American Society on Aging (ASA)

League for Elder Advocacy and Disability Services (LEADS)

National Consumer Voices for Quality Long Term Care (NCVQLR)

National Fair Housing Alliance (NFHA)

 Unleash your Grannie Power to influence change in your community or beyond that, the country, or the world.   

How can you use your Granny power?

Make a small start:

• Go to a meeting about an issue in your community. 
• Write a letter to your congressperson about pending legislation. 
• Share an article on an issue you feel  passionate about. 
• Work with young people on a cause.  You can bring a granny perspective.  

“Be the change that you wish to see in the world.” – Mahatma Gandhi.

“Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world.”  Harriet Tubman

“I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples.”  Mother Theresa

Do you want more information?

Do you want to improve your social media skills? Do you want to be a TikTok  Grannie?    Check out AARP’s free and low-cost social media skill building classes on Senior Planet for people 60 and older.  Need help joining a class? Call the free Senior Planet Hotline: 888-713-3495

Tips on Advocating for a cause:   

Book:  Breaking the Paddle: Banning Corporal punishment in Schools, Nadine Block, Center for Effective Discipline, Columbus, OH,2013.

Note:  Gemini ai editing tool used:  4-21-24, 4-23-24. 

NOT in the slow lane, YET 

The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals  and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will include health, retirement, fashion, travel, and  living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose.

 Building a Legacy, Day by Day

What is a legacy? 

Retirees are often told they should consider the legacy they want to leave. What are legacies?  Memoirs?  Documented  family history and  stories of ancestors? Passing down family traditions and recipes?  Caring for grandchildren so parents can work?  Giving money to family members  or things we feel enthusiastic about like art, churches, or  health institutions. Passing down family businesses or helping young family members start businesses?  Mentoring others?  Helping the poor, the homeless, and others who are suffering?   Leaving creative objects like paintings, hand-stitched quilts, and sculptures to family or community institutions.  Legacies are something handed down from the past, something important to you, and a  part of your history.  In broad terms, it includes all the things listed.  How do I want  people to remember me?  

Do legacies matter?

Legacies matter because we want, in varying degrees,  to leave a footprint on earth.  We think about how we were raised, our values, and what our responsibility is to others.  Those things determine how important a legacy is to us and what we want to leave. I have mixed feelings about legacies. “ Legacy”  sounds grandiose.  Maybe  only important people leave legacies…in science, art, music, religion, philanthropy,  business.   I didn’t grow up expecting to be a consequential person, just a good wife and  mother.  I was born at the end of the Great Depression and beginning of WWII.  There were specific roles for males and females.  Girls were taught to be modest, respectful of authority, and self-effacing. I didn’t always meet those expectations. My mother said I was a particularly good baby and toddler but grew up to be mischievous.  She said I was “sassy.”  “Sassy” meant asking too many questions or disagreeing.   Being independent and strong was the role of boys, not girls.    It began in cradle days on a family farm in Wisconsin in the mid 1900’s when doctors told our parents to let us cry.  It was good for our lungs.  They said catering to children and too much affection made them spoiled.  Parental authority was not questioned. Our parents described as “fighting” our childhood bickering about who did what or whose responsibility something was.  Such behavior was subject to punishment,  hours of gardening or chores.  Pertinent to  legacies which ask  us to list out achievements,  we were told,  “Don’t toot your own horns.”  “Don’t brag about yourself.”    While we weren’t  encouraged to seek grand achievements, our  parents instilled strong values… be good citizens,  be honest and truthful, campaign against injustice, and be achievers.  I am grateful to them.

Redefining Legacy.

Is my footprint on earth meaningful and important? I have decided to be kind to myself. I  am reframing the  meaning of  legacy.  If you have trouble knowing what to do about a legacy, you might  do as I am doing.  Think about these for your own definition of legacy. 

What is the purpose of my life?

What was the proudest accomplishment of my life?

How do I want friends and acquaintances to remember me?

What would I  like written in my obituary by my family?

After asking myself these questions I decided to stop worrying about my legacy.  It is up to all the people who I have known, family, friends, neighbors, teachers, colleagues at work, and even my enemies to determine my legacy.    I cannot control it. I will stop comparing myself  to  others and certain standards.  I will keep trying to be a good neighbor and good friend.  I will try to  be kind,  honest and truthful.  I will try to be a good citizen and involve myself in my community.  I will create my legacy every day by what I do and how I treat others.    

That will be my legacy.

What is your legacy?  

 

NOT in the slow lane, YET 

The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals  and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will include health, retirement, fashion, travel, and  living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose.

Fueling Your Curiosity, and Fighting Loneliness with Conversations

Have you wondered how staying curious and engaged in the world can impact your life as you age? Look no farther than “Conversations.”  Once a month seven women meet in our senior retirement community from 5-7 pm.  It is not a book club.  We delve into thought provoking topics.  In the past few months, we discussed Super Agers, Ageism, Loneliness, Friendships,  and  the Golden Bachelor Reality Show.  We meet in a club room and begin with sandwiches and wine.  Then we dive into the selected topic.   We treat it as a ritual, same time, same place, and every month. It is fun, thought-provoking and has led to deeper friendships.

The seed for “Conversations” was planted forty years ago when I was visiting our new vacation condominium.   I attended a condominium association meeting. We were the youngest owners.  A vote to  redecorate the lobby came up.  A northeastern snowbird raised his hand. “I am not voting for something I won’t be able to enjoy.”  Nods followed.  The vote failed.  I came away thinking, “I hope when I get old, I don’t fixate on myself.”  Do I have to wear out every chair in the lobby before I die to make sure I get my money’s worth?  What happens to people who do that?  They fail to stay connected.  They lose a sense of their relevance to society.  Seeing the resistance to lobby renovations led to a “Not in my lifetime” mentality.   My life lesson from the lobby renovations experience  was to age with curiosity, an enquiring mind, and engagement in my community.  That is the antidote to loneliness and a sense of relevance in old age.

Sparking the conversation this month will be  “WHY ARE MARRIAGE RATES FALLING AND DOES IT MATTER?”  

I will provide a brief  summary  and conversation starters  which promote personal views on the subject.  I thought back to my own experience of marrying just out of college.  At my graduation where I was still dressed in my cap and gown, my mother who had encouraged me not to get serious about college boyfriends, said with a disappointed voice,  “Aren’t you being a bit picky?”  I married the next year and gave birth to my three sons before I was 30 years old. Times have changed.  

What we know:

Marriage rates are falling. 

In 1960, 72% of all adults ages eighteen and older were married; today just 51% are. If current trends continue, the married  share  will drop to below half within a few years. Nearly four-in-ten Americans say marriage is becoming obsolete. (Pew Research Center).

 How did this happen?  

The  decline in marriage rates between 1960 and 2020 suggests a  complex interweaving of causal  factors:

Economic factors: Changing economic realities have impacted the decision to marry for some.

Shifting attitudes:  Marriage is no longer seen as the sole path to fulfillment.

Focus on individual growth:  The pursuit of personal goals and self-discovery has become more important to many.

Age at first marriage: People are marrying later, allowing them to prioritize education and careers,

Beyond the numbers:  A multi-faceted discussion follows  which emphasizes life experiences. Example: “What were the expectations for marriage in the mid-20^th Century when most of us married?” and “What are expectations for marriage today?”

Our discussions go beyond dry statistics.  We bring a combined total of over five hundred years of life experience. We weave humor and vulnerability into the discussion.  As trusted confidantes, we share openly, fostering connection, learning and mental agility.  We combat feelings of isolation and build valuable friendships.  

The Invitation: Start Your Own “Conversations”

Do you live in a retirement community or simply desire a stimulating social circle? Consider starting your own “Conversations” group! 

Here is how:

Find a group of 6-8 friends or neighbors who are like-minded in being interested in such topics.  Some may be close friends.  Some may be people who you would like to  have as close friends.

Brainstorm topics: Collaboratively generate a list of engaging themes.

Take turns leading: Rotate discussion facilitation, food, and drinks.

Embrace the awkwardness: Give it time! Strong bonds form through open communication.

Remember, staying curious and connected is vital at any age, but especially for those of us who eye the final  exit door.  With “Conversations” or a similar initiative, you can cultivate a vibrant, intellectually stimulating space to share experiences, learn new perspectives, and forge lasting friendships. So, what are you waiting for? Start a conversation, keep talking and see your world come alive!

  

NOT in the slow lane, YET
The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will be health, retirement, fashion, travel, and living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose. Come walk with me.

It is never too late to meditate:

I told my mother when she was one hundred she was lucky she did not have to learn new phones, watches, or anything technical. In retrospect, I would not tell anyone they are too old to do something. Sorry mom.   It is never too late to learn how to paint, play piano, or learn chess or a lot of other things. Yes, there are sometimes physical impediments that limit what we can do. I have a hand tremor which makes painting a straight line difficult.  Wavy lines are much more interesting.  Oil crayons help me to draw a straighter line when needed. There are usually ways to work around limitations.   Learning new skills keeps my mind sharp, boosts my feelings of self-worth, and improves my cognitive functioning (as far as I know).  I encourage my life-long curiosity.   I used to believe if you tried learning a skill and failed, the next time it would work.  “If at first you do not succeed, try, try again,” goes the adage.  No. At my age, if at first you fail, find someone who knows how to do it. Time is short.  That is my background in  learning meditation.  

I failed “Relaxation” 101

It was at least five degrees below zero and dark as midnight at 7:30 in the morning in Madison, Wisconsin.  I left  Elizabeth Waters Dorm jumping over two-foot snowbanks on my way to class a mile away at  Lathrop Hall, the University of Wisconsin  women’s gymnasium.  It was in the mid-1950’s.    I dumped my snowy boots at the classroom door  and laid down on the floor to begin my first experience with “Relaxation.”   I was supposed to shut my eyes,  breathe softly, and relax.  My feet were blocks of ice.  I was shivering,  hungry, and my muscles were twanging from the run.    A teacher was suddenly kneeling next to me.  She lifted one of my arms and let it fall. “RELAX!” she scolded.  My arm was supposed to be as pliant as a noodle. It  was as stiff as a board. I was angry.  I am an early morning person. I woke up full of energy and  power to slay dragons. How stupid I was to schedule this class at  dawn.   The purpose of relaxation was, well, to relax and  feel good all over.   I never learned to relax.  I was lucky that it was a pass/fail class.  I  showed up and passed  but failed relaxation. 

I did not give up on it although it took many years for me to try again.    There were many times in my long life when meditation would have been useful.   About 10 years ago, I decided to try to control my stress and persistent worry when my husband developed vascular dementia with behavioral disturbances.   I spent sleepless nights trying to figure out how to change his behavior.  Mostly using reasoning which, of course, was useless.   I knew that,  but I persisted.  I ended up losing weight, having sleep problems and fell into a constant state of anxiety.  Medication only gave me facial tremors.  I would have to solve the “me” problem.  I kept reminding myself, “ I, not events, have the power to make  unhappiness or happiness.”    More was needed. Along with substituting useless thoughts of restoring my husband, I decided to walk at least an hour a day with controlled breathing. I already walked but I  would be paying attention to breathing.   I knew I had my work cut out for me.  I really identified with “Monkey Mind,”  a yoga term meaning mind chatter.  Picture a monkey jumping from tree to tree.  That was my mind.  So, I walked every day and  re-directed thoughts of changing my husband.  I kept working on paying attention to my breathing.  I should also have paid attention to where I was going because I fell, my eyes shut as I was concentrating on being in the present.  Substituting useless thoughts for helpful ones  meant just agreeing with my husband’s irrationalities.  That and freeing my mind from its chatter at least part of the day helped me get better.  It helped get my husband in a better state.  

An  octogenarian, I am still in a learning mode on meditation.  I am taking a meditation class from a yoga instructor in our senior living Wellness Center.  My goal  is to make meditation a part of my daily life…not to cure myself or anyone else but to make me healthier.    I am learning that I can use the practice of controlled breathing to make my life better.  I help  myself become present and aware.  Time is precious to an octogenarian.  I do not scold myself for losing attention.  I wrap my arms lovingly  around myself and am thankful I can return to the present. I want to make it a habit. I am sitting for 8 minutes daily, practicing controlled breathing, and letting little thought bubbles float through my mind to my “hi” and “goodbye.”  I return to being present and being thankful for each day.  Could life be better?

NOT in the slow lane, YET

The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will be health, retirement, fashion, travel, and living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose. Come walk with me.

A Golden Bachelor Show Report: Will a Platinum Bachelor Show follow?

I was intrigued by the Golden Bachelor, the new reality show based on the younger-audience predecessor, The Bachelor. The Golden Bachelor, Gerry Turner, would be dating a throng of ladies around his age of seventy-two among whom he was hoping to find someone to share “ the sunset of my life.”    How would it treat love in old age?  I live in a continuing care retirement community.  It has independent living, assisted living, memory care and health care depending on the needs of its residents.  It requires a hefty downpayment to enter and charges monthly dues that allow  amenities like housekeeping and meals. We are Platinum Bachelors and Bachelorettes, about ten years older than the Golden ones who are the 60–75-year-old  participants in the Golden Bachelor show. 

I wanted to see how older women were treated, women with past loving relationships,  impressive work accomplishments, and strong family relationships, like most older women among my friends.  Many of us are widowed.  We wish for a loving relationship for companionship in leisure activities.  Most of us want to remain autonomous.  We do not want a  long-term commitment or long-term care duties.  We are often seen as invisible, asexual, and uninteresting.  However, we feel good about ourselves and feel that we are doing OK with or without partnering. 

Older men still have an “eye” for pretty women who are friendly and supportive.  A woman with a car and willing to drive  gets dating points.  Widowed men are sometimes reluctant to start dating or partnering.  Many have adequate social ties and are comfortable with community care which provides meals, social events, and transportation.  Some need more time to grieve a loving wife’s death.  There is a large pool of women to choose from for dates.   Women in my senior retirement home outnumber men by 4:1.  A friend went to see his dad in a senior facility one evening and, peeking through the window, saw all the lamps covered with dark sheets.  He asked his dad what was going on. “The widow ladies, the widow ladies! ” he lamented, “They won’t leave me alone.”

Acknowledging that old people looking at the exit door seek  loving relationships  is quite remarkable in a reality show.   Would it be presented realistically?   Would it show older women as diverse in many ways? Would it show our resilience?  We fell many times, but we got up and kept going.  We have experienced failures  in life. We lived through  the death of loved ones  and grieving.  We have a medical problem or two. Would it show us as the remarkable survivors we are?

I tuned in to ABC TV for the Golden Bachelor.    The scene was pleasant, a handsome 72-year-old bachelor and an adoring audience of  22 women seeking  his love.  The ratio was quite nice for Gerry.   If I were the Golden Bachelorette facing twenty-two men looking at me adoringly, I would faint or have a TIA.  The Golden Bachelor took the challenge comfortably.  He is an aw-shucks, “Midwestern Nice”  guy.  He seemed a bit dull.  He might have been trying on a role laid out by the producers.   I prefer educated, kind, and well-informed men.   The women had varied interests and talents and were well-spoken and clever.   They were mostly tanned and mostly blonde, physically fit and adorned in evening gowns or cocktail dresses.   Not the average cadre of 60- to 75-year-olds. Gerry would give a rose to each woman he dated and dismissed until he ended up with the chosen one.   I had trouble believing that love would catch fire in this artificial atmosphere.  It felt more like a competition.     I came with some biases and gave myself a check up on how they were  guiding my thinking.  So far, I graded myself “a bit snarky.”

Overall, I was positive about the show.  The contestants seemed interested in one another, got along,  and cared about each other.  Gerry’s  chosen, Theresa, seemed to be genuinely fond of him and he seemed fond of her.  I wish the absolute best for them.   Attention to our growing older population, its needs for belonging and loving relationships, was given a big  audience and may have changed some attitudes about old age being a time of stagnation, resignation, and negativism.

The ending was a bit flummoxed…background information arose to discredit Gerry’s dating history, Leslie implied he asked her to marry him, and some speculated he was marrying Theresa for her money.  It was over, the longest running dating show.  It is bound to have sequels like the Golden Bachelorette.  Will there be  a Platinum Bachelor show for the eighty and older population?   That would be interesting and leads me to musing.

If I were being interviewed for the Platinum  Bachelorette position (fat chance!), I would channel Phyllis Diller (deceased), the irreverent American comedian with spiked hair and a husband named “Fang.”

My interview questions and responses:

Nadine, would you give bachelors a rose when you dismiss  them as was done in the Golden Bachelor?

Answer:  No, of course not.  Men do not care much for flowers.  I would give them a ham sandwich, so they have something to eat on the way home.

 Nadine, where would you take the bachelors on a date?

Answer:  Definitely not pole dancing or tabletop dancing.  No Jitterbugs or twists unless they are slow.  I have a bad back. 

We would go to dinner and do some slow dancing or watch a movie.  I want to be home by 9:00.  

Nadine, what would you wear?

Answer:     Long dresses (covering my comfortable flat shoes)  with long sleeves (over the knuckles), something dark and slimming.

Nadine, What do you want from the Golden Bachelor? 

Answer: The most important thing is finding a guy who is genuine, kind, and truthful.  Another important quality is family closeness.  I want to stay close to my family and hope he has good family relationships too. Keeping good family relationships is challenging work  and is a good sign for our relationship.  

Actually,  I want someone who will make candlelight dinners for us and clean up the kitchen.  

Back to serious. 

More research should be done on dating and partnering in later life because of the aging of the U.S. population and  because social relationships help us overcome loneliness and isolation. Loneliness and isolation pose health risks like depression, cognitive decline, high blood pressure and even death. Does the need for loving relationships extend into the platinum generation of the eighties and older?

I will watch the Golden Bachelorette.  We have a lot to learn about relationships between older men and women and this is a “golden” opportunity.

Want to know more?

William DM, Locker L Jr, Briley K, Ryan R, Scott AJ. What do older adults seek in their potential romantic partners? Evidence from online personal ads. Int J Aging Hum Dev. 2011;72(1):67-82. doi: 10.2190/AG.72.1.d. PMID: 21391407.

National Council on Aging: Why Is Intimacy Important in Older Adults?   12-15, 2021 

NOT in the slow lane, YET 

The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals  and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will include health, retirement, fashion, travel, and  living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose.

A LOVING LETTER TO MY GRANDCHILDREN: 2023

To: Sydney, Will, Tabitha, CaroleAnne, Nat, Declan, and Jack

You are always in my heart and often in my mind.  As you have grown to be young adults, I remember you as babies and my mind often drifts toward your futures.  I thought someday I would write about my love for you and hopes for your life.   

What are the things I want you to know? I keep putting off writing my letter, probably until a doctor tells  me it is time to “settle my affairs.” What if I did not have a warning of death? What if I splatted on the floor going to the mailbox?  Why not write the letter now?  

Today in this holiday season of 2023, I want to tell you so many things.  This is my start.

My world is better with you in it.

I love being your Grandma.  I loved seeing you shortly after birth, holding you and smelling your sweet baby smell. I was dazzled by your beautiful face. I ached for your mom and dad who wanted so much to be good parents.   I lived halfway across the country  from most of you, and tears ran down my face knowing that I would be a far-away grandma.  Our work kept us in Ohio.  I would not see your first steps.  I would not see you going off to school. We did not have Zoom or Facetime for frequent visits.  Telephone calls and semi-annual visits were not sufficient. Sometimes I cared for you when your parents were out of town.  I authored story books for you when you were little.   Sometimes I read parts of them to you.  They were stories about my travels using travel photos and my illustrations.  Mostly they were  about fanciful animals like Corey the Camel in Timbuktu and Casey the Cat in Kathmandu. I hoped you would enjoy traveling and be curious about the world when you grew up.   You  grew up so fast.  I love to hear what you are doing. I am so grateful that I have lived long enough to see you as young adults in college or beginning your way in the world of work.

Make the World a Better Place. 

Your dads, my three sons, each made the world a better place.  Greg hoped his children would see the First Step Staffing vans delivering homeless people to jobs and be proud of their dad.  He used his own funds to build the largest non-profit staffing program for homeless people in the country.  Jeff, like his brothers, was a triathlete. He helped high school students who needed success experiences to train for and complete a marathon. Many of them were having difficult times in their daily lives. He not only helped them train but he accompanied them on marathons.   Steve put his many talents into being a successful and hardworking Councilman serving his community.  I am so proud of them. Greg received an award from Turner Broadcasting and mentioned that my work helping end corporal punishment in Ohio schools  was  influential in his becoming a person who gives back. I slobbered all over the unknown man next to me.  We got more out of helping others and our communities than we put into it.  I hope you are lucky to find something you want to do to “give back.”  It may be in your genes!

Find Something to Celebrate.

Sometimes I get up in the morning with aches and pains.  I find that changing my thinking to what I am thankful for changes my mood…a sunny day, a zoom meeting with my four siblings, or having lunch with a friend. Happiness begins in the mind.   I, not events, have the power to make  unhappiness or happiness.   I think how lucky I am to have you in my life, how lucky that I am to be able to walk and  paint and write and socialize.   I am surrounded by retired seniors in my continuing care retirement community who have experienced grief, regret, death, and failures.  We have coped with them. You will have those things in your path. You will learn to cope.  Do not be afraid to fail.  When you are striving to achieve something that you desire in work or relationships, defeat is hard.   Do not spend a lot of time looking back at failure…learn from it and move forward.  

Be a Lifelong Learner.

Always be curious.  Treasure learning.  It is good for your mental well-being.  You can learn new skills that benefit your career.  You can learn an art like painting or sculpting. You can learn practical skills like fixing plumbing in your house.  It builds your self-esteem to have learned something new.   It helps you connect with people who enjoy your interests. I started painting when I retired.  I have taken art classes since then.   I take zoom classes in art from a local artist and online with an art school.  As an octogenarian,  art classes will not get my paintings in the Louvre, but I like talking about and learning about art. It makes me young.

“Anyone who stops learning is old, at twenty or eighty. Anyone who keeps learning stays young.” –  Henry Ford 

Put away  for your future.

You are young.  I know it is hard to think about retirement.  It will arrive sooner than you think.  You cannot depend on Social Security to live on in retirement. The monthly benefits are small, and they may need to be reduced in the future  to accommodate people living longer and a low birth rate.  The number of workers is falling, and their taxes might not keep Social Security healthy. Start investing in retirement early, even if it is a small amount. Do it regularly before it is spent.   It is convincing to look at what  money saved and invested does over time if you start early.  You take advantage of compounded earnings.  Be sure to contribute to your 401(k)s if your employer offers a match. Small investments over time  lead to big opportunities.    When each of you was born, I established an educational trust for you. On your birthday each year, I contributed the maximum amount allowed by taxation laws and continued to do that through your school years.  It was not a large amount yearly but over time with good investments by your dads and compounded earnings, the education fund  gave you the opportunity to attend the college of your choice.  It is an accomplishment in life that gave me immense pleasure.  The best investment I ever made.

Honor your family relationships.

Your grandfather and I both believed and taught your dads that family relationships are important. Families  ground you for the world.   They are there for you in the best of times and worst of times.  They bring out the best in you. 

 My four siblings and I agree  that our relationship is more important than money or politics or who does what.  We are scattered throughout the country.  We attend family gatherings, reunions, weddings, and funerals.  We do a zoom meeting weekly.  During Covid,  in  our Zoom meetings, my siblings helped me put together my memoir by adding to and correcting my drafts.   We laughed and argued about whose memories were correct. We are competitive but we know when to reign it  in.  It was a sibling bonding experience.  Our memories provided the family history in my memoir.  We are all in our seventies and eighties.  Our investment in relationships has paid off and our relationship is especially comforting  in our time of life.  Like plants, relationships need tending.  That means going out of your way to nurture and treasure family by practicing courtesy and respect in your dealings with one another. It means treating them as your best friends because that is what they are.  A lifetime of honoring family relationships will be rewarded with a sense of peace and comfort.

Writing this letter to you was so much fun.  I have more to say.   I may do it again next year.  God willing.  Grandma Dene

 

NOT in the slow lane, YET 

The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals  and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will include health, retirement, fashion, travel, and  living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose.

BLOCK LONELINESS: CHAT UP SOMEONE YOU DON’T KNOW

United States Surgeon General Dr. Vivek Murthy released a Surgeon General Advisory (May 3, 2023) calling attention to the public health crisis of loneliness caused by isolation and lack of social connection.  He said we could  help people feel less lonely and more connected  if we prioritized building social connections the same way we prioritized other public health issues like tobacco and obesity.  

Older people are especially likely to be lonely.  We may have friends who are dying. We may  be unable to drive, have hearing and vision problems, mobility problems, and financial problems.  We  may need to  move from neighborhoods with long-time friends to senior retirement communities  or to unfamiliar neighborhoods to be near families. 

Increasing socialization is important. Even weak friendships are worthwhile. I was emailed  a one-minute YouTube of a young man urging his dad to move to online  banking.  It would free his dad from tedious chores.  His Dad balked.  He would miss the bank tellers and personal bankers who greeted him when he did banking.  He saw them as friends.  A couple of additional urgings were met with a stone wall.  Weak friendships were important to his Dad. 

Weak friendships often give my days a boost.  The grocery store cashier said she missed me.  We spent a few seconds chatting. I felt a little burst of happiness  as I wheeled my cart toward the car.  The salesperson at the dry cleaner noted that I had not been in for a while  and said she was happy  to see me.   I commiserated with her about how uncomfortable  it must be working in the hot steamy laundry on a ninety-degree summer day.  She smiled as she pulled my dry cleaning off the rack.  She  appreciated my concern.  

Sometimes weak friendships not only give you a lift, but you learn from them.

I recently went to California to visit my gravely ill son. I left with a heavy heart and a grim thought of busy airports and five hours of flying.  I brought a book, but I knew concentrating on it would be a challenge.  I brought  along another possibility…a New York Times article, “Happiness Challenge Day 3: Chat up someone you don’t know.” (9-4-23, New York Times Wellness Series).  It suggested that brief interchanges with casual acquaintances and even complete strangers contribute to a sense of well-being.

I decided that I would do a “deep dive” getting to know my seatmate on each leg of the flight.  Maybe I would be rejected.  Maybe they would be boring.  Or maybe they would be fun, and I would learn something.  I opted for the latter.  

My first seatmate looked like a tough deep dive…a young man about twenty.   How does an octogenarian  lady  communicate with a young man more than  sixty years younger?  I started asking questions.  He said he grew up in the south and had not gone to college. What a delight he turned out to be!  He was a member of a rock band that had performed the night before at a State Fair.  He thought I would recognize the band.  I did not.  He does eighty concerts a year.   At his youthful age, he already had two businesses that were an outgrowth of his band experience.  He hoped some day they would be successful enough so he would not need to travel so much and  could be a hands-on dad and standby husband to a young woman he would soon marry.  When he left, he took my name and the name of my memoir book, and we both agreed that we had a special visit.  I learned about rock bands.  I met a special young man I really liked even though I would not have much in common with him  in my everyday  life.  I felt calm and had a  sense of well-being.  Our brief, but rewarding, friendship took place in a chat on an airplane.  

Want to know more about loneliness?

New Surgeon General Advisory Raises Alarm about the Devastating Impact of the Epidemic of Loneliness and Isolation in the United States

NOT in the slow lane, YET 

The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals  and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will include health, retirement, fashion, travel, and  living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose.

How to develop a positive mindset about aging

Jimmy Mercer’s lyrics in the l944 song, “Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive and eliminate the negative” give us happiness advice.   If you are my age you may remember hearing that song. That advice from l944 is still good. Accentuating the positive can lead to better health and a happier life. A study of 14,000 adults over age 50, co-authored by experts at Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health found those who had a good attitude about aging lived longer,  had fewer diseases, slept better, and had a stronger sense of purpose. 

I started posting  happiness quotes  on a lobby bulletin board in a busy area of our retirement  facility. I did not have a behavior change study  in mind. I was not even sure anyone would read them.   I hoped they might bring smiles to residents.

The quotes are cheery. Today I posted a Chinese proverb:

 “If you want happiness for an hour—take a nap.  If you want happiness for a day—go fishing.  If you want happiness for a year—inherit a fortune.  If you want happiness for a lifetime—help someone else.”

Last week, I posted a quote by Henry Ward Beecher.

“The art of being happy lies in the power of extracting happiness from common things.”

The previous week, I posted a quote by Earl Nightingale.

“Learn to enjoy every minute of your life.  Be happy now.  Do not wait for something outside of yourself to make you happy in the future.”

It is not always easy to be happy.   I  have real things that are bothersome.  I have foot problems and arthritis.  Sometimes my sciatic nerves are unhappy.  I have had a bout of cancer.  My thinking is slower, and I forget things.   Sometimes the misery thoughts can make me smile,  “I’m learning  about body parts I didn’t know existed.” 

 Happiness begins in our brain.  It  depends on how we think about our lives.    I have negative stereotypes about aging to deal with, thoughts that old people are  “crotchety,” “ don’t want to learn new things,”  “ forgetful,” and “complain about everything.” We  learn  negative thoughts about aging beginning in childhood from our families, communities, and media.  Recognizing them helps to blunt their damage. 

Meanwhile, I will keep posting my happy quotes for my neighbors and I will try to live by them.

My efforts may confirm for a few, that I wear rose-colored glasses and  live in make-believe land.  I hope happy quotes I post will strengthen a positive mind set on old age.

Why not start by replacing a misery thought with happy thought?

Do you want to know more?

Mayo Mindfullness: Overcoming Negative Self Talk by Dana Sparks, May 29,  2019

 

NOT in the slow lane, YET 

The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals  and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will include health, retirement, fashion, travel, and  living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose.

Thoughts About Art After My Exhibition Ends

A few days ago, I took down an exhibition of my art at our continuing care retirement community.  My oil painting collection had been up for two months, and another artist patiently waited for my paintings to come down so she could hang her treasures.  I began musing over the show and what I had learned from the experience.

The art committee chair asked me to share my paintings about three months ago. I had given away or sold my paintings when I moved to my continuing care retirement community.   I have since  produced only eight new paintings.   The rest would come from previous work.  I decided I would learn how to frame them.  It costs $200-400 to get midsize paintings professionally framed. I could do it for less than half of the cost.   A fellow art committee member helped me with  drilling and screw placement. It was a new skill for these octogenarians.  

I had thirteen paintings in the show.  Three sold, four were not for sale, two were donated, and four remained unsold.  It was fun to do the paintings, fun to relive my memories though painting, and fun to make people happy.  The  money raised was given to a Foundation which supports our community residents  whose money has run out, so they do not have to  leave. 

The gallery is on both  sides of  a long hallway on the way to the Health Care Center from Independent Living facilities.  Many people, visitors,  staff, residents, some in wheelchairs and walkers, go by the paintings every day.   I enjoyed watching them looking at my paintings.  They told me they found the paintings  fun,  colorful and joyful.  

I do not expect everyone to love my work.  What one person finds beautiful, another might find boring, or ugly.  We bring individual experiences, knowledge of art and individual tastes to observing visual art.  People are  entitled to their own opinions and artists learn to live with that.  Those who persist in producing art often do it for personal reasons.  I must paint.  It makes me happy.  It stirs up my creativity. It makes me feel productive and worthwhile. You could throw rotten  tomatoes at my art.  I would persist.

I painted from  photos of family, and photos of sights and people on my trips.  I love painting photos of trips. Memories of three weeks in many Turkish destinations, lush foliage in the south of India, and ten days of sights in Havana, Cuba flooded my mind as I painted. 

I give names to my paintings.  Some artists do not do that.  They want you to figure them out and give them your special names.   I can understand why they do that for abstract paintings but otherwise it seems pretentious. Names of paintings in my show included  “The Way Home,” “Istanbul Market,” “Blooming Fantasy,” “Remembering Rosie,” “Fall Blooms,” “Hopes and Dreams,” and “Sassy Sisters.” I sign and name my paintings and write a brief paragraph describing the subject to post next to the painting. I hope the story will bring paintings to life for people who viewed them.  The stories  I wrote about the paintings included:

“SASSY SISTERS”                    

An oil painting, cartoon style, of my sisters and me.  They both hate the painting. The sister who  draws the short straw will get it.

“ HOPES AND DREAMS”

Poof and away they go, hopes and dreams  floating away.  A multi-media painting.

 “ISTANBUL MARKET”    The Kadıköy market district, on the Asian shore of the Bosporus, has bright fruits and vegetables, lots of fish, and good restaurants. 

I did several oil paintings from photos of this Istanbul, Turkey market.

“ LITTLE FARM GIRLS 1940”

Oil painting, semi-abstract, from a photo of my sister and me on our Wisconsin farm.

 

 “HAVANA CUBA BALLERINA”

On a Columbus Jazz Orchestra tour of  Cuba  8 years ago, I took of photo of a lovely young  woman in a ballet school for children.  I was so intrigued by her intensity.   I tried to capture that  in this oil painting.  

“THE WAY HOME”

On this semi abstract oil painting, a gravel road leads into the distance.  I was remembering the Wisconsin rural community where I grew up.

 “FALL BLOOMS”

This oil painting was chosen in a juried contest to be one of ten public art installations in Upper Arlington, Ohio.  It is copied on a utility box at Ridgeview and Tremont, the Northeast corner of Tremont Elementary School. 

 “BLOOMING FANTASY”

This oil painting is full of colorful summer blooms. I love vibrant colors and am usually happiest with work I have done that is bold and colorful.

“SOUTHERN INDIA FOLIAGE IN BLUE”

I sold an earth-toned painting of this subject to a man who came to my first exhibition in 2016.  His wife called me to tell me a couple of years ago that he died.  He loved the painting so much he had it brought to his care facility room when he was dying.  I wept.  

I did this oil painting with some of the same foliage I had photographed in Southern India, but in blue. It still brings a tear to my eye.

I hope you have enjoyed a tour of some of my paintings.  

My art show is over.  I hope I will be able to produce more art and to learn new skills for a future exhibition.  I go away with the memory of a man in a wheelchair who was looking at a painting of a country road, “The Way Home.”  His aide pointed me out and told him I was the artist.  He smiled and said, “That brings back such wonderful memories of my childhood.”  A tear came to his eye.  And to mine.

DO YOU WANT TO KNOW MORE?

I hope you enjoyed a tour of some of my exhibits.  

See more of my paintings at my website www.nadineblock.com/

NOT in the slow lane, YET

The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will be health, retirement, fashion, travel, and living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose. Come walk with me.

HELPING NEW RESIDENTS ADJUST TO CONTINUING CARE RETIREMENT COMMUNITIES

I have lived in a Continuing Care Retirement Community (CCRC) for almost two years.  I chair our care community’s Ambassador Committee. The committee is composed of a dozen gregarious, helpful, and caring residents who volunteer to  help new residents make a comfortable adjustment to our CCRC.  As residents, we know the community and have memories of our own adjustment here.  We make new residents  feel safe and comfortable.

Ambassador Committees are an important part of most CCRCs.  Adjusting to living in these communities requires a substantial change in life for most people.  Most new residents in our community are moving  from single family homes. They are unaccustomed to living in multi-dwelling buildings.  I lived half of my adult years in condominiums so the transition to the CCRC multi-family dwelling facility was easy. 

The move to CCRCs requires a great deal of thought and planning.  Before moving here, I consulted family and professionals to help me wade through contracts, financial commitments, health care options,  and  living unit options. I  made heavy financial, social and health-care related decisions.  I  took  a risk, trading the known for the unknown. I  hoped I  made the right decision.      

Like others entering CCRCs,   I wanted a home, not just a place to live.  Like most of our residents, I  had relatives nearby but  did not want to have to rely on them for most of my social needs.  I  hoped to make new friends in my final home.    Friendships take time.  It takes time to  develop trust in one another and feel comfortable sharing ourselves with others.  

Friends are a buffer against loss and sorrow.  At our age, we have experienced many happy memories, but we have also experienced loss, grieving, failure, and sorrow. When I moved in two years ago,  I had recently  lost my youngest son to cancer. My  husband had advanced vascular dementia and was in an assisted living facility. I was not alone in shouldering loss and carrying sorrow.  I had company.

How do Ambassadors contribute to making a senior care community a home?

Ambassadors are chosen for their ease in meeting people, their kindness, and their willingness to spend as much time as needed with new residents to help them get to know the campus and the activities here.  They attend monthly meetings and help develop informational materials for new residents.  They  share information on health and safety,  how to get maintenance help, and how to contact staff who can help them. We alert them  to helpful  community  publications. We offer personal tours. We help them make social connections through dining, interest groups, and  events.  Our Ambassadors try to put themselves in the shoes of  new residents who might lock themselves out, be scared by fire alarms, do not understand the dues billing, and how to get their state driver’s license.

Ambassadors introduce new residents to other residents. An example of an Ambassador welcoming activity in our community is “Wine and Welcome.”

“Wine and Welcome” is a monthly affair with wine and appetizers. It is sponsored by the community marketing department. Parties like this one are well attended.  Ambassadors introduce residents who have moved in since the previous month. Usually they are entertaining as well as informative.  I recently began to introduce  a new resident who announced that he preferred to introduce himself.  I asked him if he knew about the “Two Minute Rule” (keep the introduction short).  He said he was a judge, and I was overruled.  

Ambassadors play a vital role in making senior care facilities more welcoming, and interesting places to live. Ambassadors help the retirement community to  meet the needs of its residents and their families. 

If you are interested in a continuing care retirement community, check out their Ambassador program.  

NOT in the slow lane, YET

The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will be health, retirement, fashion, travel, and living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose. Come walk with me.

Oil paintings from my July 2023 exhibit

 

ART IS GOOD FOR US

Art is good for me whether I  see it,  or  feel it, or create it.   It increases my happiness, lowers my anxiety, boosts my creativity, and stimulates my mind.

I felt the effects of art as a small child in a one-room rural school in Wisconsin.   It did not come from taking  art classes.  Our solo teacher had more than forty students in grades 1-8 to teach reading, writing and arithmetic.  There was  little time to teach art.  I spent hours with a box of cards having  a picture of art on one side and a story about the artist on the other.  I tried to reproduce the art with pencils and crayons.  Drawing was pleasing.  It was an opportunity for self-expression.  Dreaming that I might see an  original piece of art from my cards in a museum in France, or Spain, Italy, or England was inspirational.  It gave me a purpose in life.

As an adult, I was fortunate to be able to travel to many countries where I saw great works of art. My husband enjoyed art too.   Our first destination  in a  country was usually an art museum. It was exciting to see the  magnificent sizes of some paintings and the surprisingly small sizes of others. I always enjoyed contemporary art, more abstract than representative art.    I collected art, at least as much as I could afford.  That gave me a sense of purpose.  I was connected to the world through art. 

When I retired I decided to learn to paint.  For the past twelve years, I  have taken art classes online, in a cultural arts center, and from four local artists.  I currently take zoom classes from an artist.  Talking through my work with instructors and observing others has helped me improve my skills.   It is therapeutic for a slight essential tremor that has developed in my right hand.  Even as I sometimes struggle using small brushes, I tell myself,  “This is good for me.” It improves my hand-eye coordination, my problem-solving skills, and attention.  

 I took human figure painting three hours a week for five years.  I was intently involved in trying to bring the personality and form of the model onto canvas.  After the three hours of  painting, I was in a Zen mood as I put down my brushes and observed my  art. It blew away feelings of anxiety and depression.  It helped focus my mind.   During times of challenges, it helped stimulate my mind and improve my sense of well-being.  

Through painting, I developed an artsy friendship group,  a mixture of ages and backgrounds born through painting together.  We helped one another with art projects,  visited exhibits together, and developed a fondness for one another.  I miss being an active  part of those groups.  My world has gotten a little smaller without them.  Carrying all my supplies and parking downtown to take part in group instruction is getting difficult. Getting to evening show openings is difficult.   I‘ve switched to zoom with an art teacher and the companionship of a few artists in my care facility.  We have a lovely art studio where I can leave my easel and supplies.  Life is still exciting,  and art is still immensely enjoyable.

Creating art is challenging.  I make a few accommodations to age and  declining endurance. I have trouble painting  fine lines and small  objects. So, I go bigger and more abstract.    I find it hard to paint for three hours, so I am happy to paint for an hour or so at a time.  I am so happy that I can still find joy in art.   It improves my emotional and mental well-being whether it is by creating it  or seeing it or feeling it.

Visit an art museum. Create your own piece of art.   It is never too late to learn to draw, paint, and sculpt. Most communities have senior art classes.  There are online tutorials about how to start an art project.  Many are excellent. 

Want to know more?

Mental Health Foundation (UK)  How Arts Can Help Improve Your Mental Health

The Mental Health Benefits of Art: Scripps Affiliated Medical Groups

.Everyone can create art…imagination. 

 

 

NOT in the slow lane, YET 

The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals  and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will include health, retirement, fashion, travel, and  living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose.

Last month I wrote about the effects of ageism, a term defined as  prejudice or  discrimination on grounds of a person’s age.   What five words come to mind when you think of older people? Do you think they are  calm, contemplative, and wise,  or do you think they are slow, stubborn, and out of touch?  I list some of mine in this blog. 

What can I do about Ageism?

I started by looking in the mirror and checking my own stereotypes of aging.    I blamed old age for forgetting a name or misplacing my cell phone.  I thought most old people have short attention spans. I laughed at cartoons about aging. Yes, I used words like “old hag,” “Over-the-Hill,” and “Old Fogey” describing older people.  Just this week I said, “You can teach an old dog a new trick, but it takes a long  time.”  I have not taken a 180-degree turn, but I am more aware of my own negative perceptions. Once we are aware of them,  we can challenge our thinking.  I went through my blogs and removed ageism’s. There may still be some there.

We should not be too hard on ourselves.   We started learning stereotypes about older people  before we went to school. Our beliefs about aging came from words and actions in our families and communities, advertising,  movies, social media, and books.  We learned them.  We need to unlearn them. 

What can I do to unlearn ageism?

When I catch myself using an ageism stereotype,  I sometimes self-talk an alternative statement.   “Old people have attention spans of fleas “ could be changed to “Some older people have attention span problems.”   I can make a verbal correction as a response to my own words. I can talk about ageism with friends to solidify my attempts to correct my own perceptions and I can help raise awareness for others.  

What can I do when I am challenged by ageist remarks?

Now that I am more aware of ageism, I find it in medical care, in social events, and  in  family relationships.  What can I do when someone seems  prejudiced against me because of ageism?

I could react like my mother who told a medical worker,  “You can’t treat me that way just because I am old.” She got their attention. She lived to be 101 so she had more chances to correct medical workers.  My brother called a doctor who was caring for our mother to inquire about how she developed MRSA after a shoulder operation.  He said, “Maybe her shoulder skin wasn’t clean.”  My brother was incensed!  “That’s your job,”  he said.

It is nice to have a family advocate but that is not always available.  If you feel you are being belittled, ignored or the subject of condescension or rudeness, you have a right to respond.  You must be your own advocate.

There are other ways to react to being stereotyped as old and less entitled to respect.  I might  say, “Tell me more. What do you mean?”   I listen to what the person says.  I  may be satisfied with their answer, but I remind myself not to back down if their answer is still demeaning.  I can tell them how it feels to hear their words, like my mom did but, in a less stinging way.  

What can I do to push back on ageism in our culture? 

Educate myself about ageism:  Read articles and books and talk to people who are knowledgeable.  We should be proud of being life-long learners.  People who keep learning and evolving stay young. 

Prevent it in the first place:   Start talking to children in the family  about positive age beliefs  and support  teaching positive age beliefs  in school.

Support programs that provide older people with experiences like tutoring, mentoring, and volunteering in schools and other community organizations:

 They give a positive image of older people  and  a  reward that comes from helping others.

 Support giving opportunities to older people  to take classes with college students to learn about young people, stay active and learn new things. 

 Travel with younger people to explore unfamiliar places and cultures: You can see it from their perspective and your own.

Seek out interage experiences: Such experiences provide opportunities for us to learn new things and make new friends.  Younger people can understand that we are all different and develop empathy for older people.   A friend and I went to an art event. We dressed in cocktail clothes. Most of the attendees were young creatives who came in elaborate costumes.  What fun that was.  We sat with a young couturier and her friend. The conversation was exciting.  Next year I will put together a costume for the event.

Post positive quotes about older people in our communities to counteract negative stereotypes:

  Examples:  

“Youth can walk faster but the elder knows the road.” African proverb.

“Beautiful young people are accidents of nature, but beautiful old people are works of art.”   Eleanor Roosevelt

“You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.”   C.S. Lewis

“Growing old is mandatory, but growing up is optional.”  Carroll Bryant

Help Build a Better Society

If you observe ageist behaviors and speech, speak up. Let them know such behavior is unacceptable.  Continue to educate yourself and others. Support  programs that provide  workplace environment improvements, social opportunities, and medical care for older people.    People with positive stereotypes of living appear to live longer and be happier. Supporting positive perceptions of older people helps create a kinder and more respectful society for all people.   

Do you want to know more?

This study indicates people with positive perceptions of aging live longer.

Longevity increased by positive self-perceptions of aging.

A Letter From the Old Folks Home:

The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. A Letter from the Old Folks Home  is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals  and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will include health, retirement, fashion, travel, and  living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose (see the contact form on this website). Come walk with me.

Ageism: Prejudice or discrimination against people based on their age.  

I had just gleefully emailed cartoons about old people to my four over-seventy siblings. A couple of the cartoons featured Maxine, the grumpy old cartoon lady.   I read them again to have another laugh before filing them.  One, with a daffy-looking senior, said,  “How do I know what I am doing tomorrow? I do not know what today is.”  That seemed mean.  Did passing on those cartoons make me guilty of ageism?  Suddenly, I felt ageism guilt.

I  read a  book and online articles  on ageism and decided to get some in-person experiences.  I emailed a few ladies in my senior retirement community inviting them for “A Conversation on Ageism.”  I said I would bring wine and cheese.  I invited eight.  Seven came.  After a brief introduction on ageism and a one-pager with statements and resources, I presented conversation starters which focused on their experiences. These are their comments.

What are stereotypes of seniors?

Negative: Q-tips (white hair), crabby, doddering old people who did not take care of themselves, set in their ways, hard of hearing, blind, poor drivers, weak, feeble,  crazy old man, senile old woman, computer illiterates,  old geezer, and dirty old man.

Positive:  News stories about seniors who are active, productive, and contribute to their communities in old age.

Neutral:  It used to be worse.  It was not long ago that you were “old” at fifty.

What are your experiences of ageism?

The first time I went to my doctor after my husband died, the nurse started talking to my daughter instead of me.  She took my arm and guided me when we walked and asked if I wanted a wheelchair.  She had known me for years. Why was I was suddenly treated like a person who could not walk or talk?

We must be careful when talking to younger people…our use of words sometimes brings looks of condescension.

It took me nine months to get a primary doctor.  They limit Medicare patients.   

At age 55, it is so clear that they want to get rid of you at work so they can hire someone cheaper. 

Doctors say, “At your age, you don’t need that test.”  What if I have someone in my immediate family who died from colon cancer or cervical cancer? What if I would like to live a few years longer?

The drugs they want me to take  are sometimes not normed on people my age. How do I know they will work and not be harmful?  I investigated getting into  treatment trials.  They will not accept seniors for drug or other treatment trials.

At my age, I see several specialists. The doctors have a nonchalant approach of adding more drugs to my list.  They might interact with the other drugs prescribed by other doctors. Who checks?  There is not enough team approach to prescribing.

I feel invisible.  What do I have to do to be seen as I am?

Commercials are only about young people.  Clothes are not tailored or designed for old people.  We do not dress like women did years ago.  They do not treat us like we are interested in clothing.  We travel and want to look nice.

You must be confident in your own skin to survive ageism.

What is ageism?

Ageism is a term that was used by Robert Neil Butler in 1969 to describe bias against older people. His book Why Survive?  Being Old in America won a Pulitzer prize.  When we think of stereotypes, we may act by staying away from old people or treating  them in demeaning ways. This can happen in institutions like hospitals, nursing homes, the workplace, the media, and the legal system. It can happen in social exchanges when old people are ignored or spoken to.  It happens when we accept stereotypes and apply them to ourselves. 

Research shows increased stress, a decreased will to live,  less desire to live a healthy lifestyle, a slower recovery from illness,  and a shortened life span.

Think of a person who refuses to get a hearing aid because it makes her look old (and it is costly and not paid for by Medicare).

Think of a person in a wheelchair who stays in the house all day instead of getting out because he does not want to look old and handicapped.

Think of abused and neglected seniors:  At least 10% of adults aged sixty-five and older will experience some form of elder abuse each year (Elder abuse statistics, U.S. Department of Justice).

Think of an old person who refuses to go to the doctor for a health problem because he is going to die anyway.

What you can do:

Educate yourself and others:

“Ageism is a global challenge: UN” (who.int) World Health Organization (WHO) 

“What is Ageism & How Does it Affect Health,” (mentalhealthandaging.com)Medical News Today, November 3, 2021  

 Applewhite, Ashton: This Chair Rocks: A Manifesto Against Ageism, Celadon books, New York, New York, 2016   

“Fact-filled, witty, a call to arms for older folks.”   Nadine Block

NOT in the slow lane, YET

The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. It is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals  and find joy in life. The blog will cover firsthand experiences, thoughts, and concerns. Topics of blogs will be health, retirement, fashion, travel, and  living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose. Come walk with me.

A gift to your family: Write a memoir.

Have you thought about sharing your experiences and life lessons with others?   Do you want your memories to be remembered? Do you want to improve your writing?  Are you looking for something to do that is useful and keeps you busy?

 Have you thought about writing a memoir?  

I will share my walk in writing a memoir.  I hope it will encourage you to start writing. 

Why did I write a memoir? 

The author, Isabel Allende, states: “Write what should not be forgotten.” 

Sometimes, writers want to change minds and hearts like I did in my books about ending hitting  of children, Breaking the Paddle: Ending School Corporal Punishment and This Hurts Me More Than It Hurts You:  Children Share How Spanking Hurts and What To Do Instead (Publisher of both: Center for Effective Discipline). Social progress is slow, and I wanted to push along the idea that children deserve the same legal protection adults have to  be  free from physical punishment. Over sixty countries do not allow children to be hit, even in homes.  All US states allow hitting children in families and eighteen  states still allow paddling in schools. I wanted to add my knowledge and experience to history.

Memoirs are different.  They are stories about important times in our lives.  In writing Remembering Rosie: Memories of a Wisconsin Farm Girl (Page Publishing, Inc. 2021),  I hoped to provide my grandchildren with an authentic and entertaining  story about the life of  farm children in  the 1950’s when I grew up. I wanted to gain their respect for the contributions of our pioneer families. I was looking at the end of my life and wanted to make sense of it.   I did not make a list of why I was writing a memoir. I just knew that I had to do it.

Writing has always  been a link to my seven grandchildren who live out of state. They are now in their teens and early twenties. When they were little,  I tried to connect with them through small books (12 in total).   I wrote, illustrated, and privately  published stories for children  about my travels. I was grateful for being able to travel.  I hoped travel would be part of their lives. I wrote fanciful stories about countries I visited and used travel photos and my  drawings of imaginary figures such as “Corey the Camel in Timbuktu” and “ Casey the Cat in Kathmandu.”  As they grew older, I added historical and geographical information to my travel stories. 

I  compiled a picture book (Our Family: Wisconsin Pioneers) with biographies of  our German and Lithuanian immigrant families who were pioneers in Wisconsin. One day one of my grandchildren was complaining about the number of chores expected of him. I thought, “Someday I will write about real W-O-R-K,  the hard and dangerous work of farm children 80 years ago.” 

My memoir, Remembering Rosie: Memories of a Wisconsin Farm Girl  gives my grandchildren a snapshot of my life  on a Wisconsin dairy farm.  The main characters are my four siblings and my parents.  My mom was an important part of the story.  She suffered from depression as a young wife but found her own happiness and joy owning her own business.  To our delight, she also found  her long-lost sense of humor and wit.  Her recovery was a lesson in finding a place where you can grow rather than feel trapped.  A Gannett reporter said my book is a feminist farm memoir.

How I wrote the memoir:

I decided to write about my early years in a mostly linear manner, from birth to leaving home as a young adult. The subjects were historical and personal:  work of children, education, economics,  medicine, religion,  and family dynamics. My four siblings contributed their memories as I wrote chapters.  I wrote most of it during our Covid shut-in times.  We communicated by zoom and email. My siblings helped me recall forgotten events.  It was a great bonding experience for our family. 

Halfway through drafting the memoir, I decided to get it published  because it might appeal to people who grew up on family farms or visited them as children.   It also might appeal to people who like nostalgic books about life in the past.   Covid lockdowns also had me looking back to calmer times.  

Was I happy I wrote the memoir?

Yes. I got to know myself  better. I realized that I thrive on structure, even in old age. An hour of physical exercise and two hours of writing or painting are daily goals for me. 

I learned more about my family relationships.  My siblings and I  were sometimes surprised at how differently we remembered events. One of my brothers commented on a memory I offered,  “Did we grow up in the same house?”  How lucky I was able to share memories of a close-knit family and to appreciate  and gain from their viewpoints!

I became a better writer.  In my work life, I authored reports and position papers requiring research interpretation, providing  conclusions and making recommendations. In writing a memoir, I  learned to think about more than facts and conclusions.  I learned to care more about piquing the interests of the reader while still being true to representation of facts and historical information.  I had to learn to write like a fiction writer.

Why should YOU write a memoir? 

Everyone has a story to tell.   When you are gone, your stories may die with you unless you write them down.  You may  write to learn more about your ancestors and gain insight into them. You may want to put into words what meaning life holds for you. Your words may become lessons that help others. You may  write to get to know yourself better. You may want to become a better writer. I wrote for all those reasons.  

Start writing your memoir:

Find courage to start drafting your story. Take a chance!  You may end up with a short story to share with your family. You may end up with a longer story, a memoir.  

• Think about an important part of your life.  Write down memories and scenes from that time. If you have painful memories, let them come back, cope with them, and put them into words. 
• Organize the memories.  Ask family members to share memories and family photos.  Ask them to tell the stories behind the photos. 
• Check Ancestry.com or other genealogical websites for information about your family. 
• Do historical reading on that period for information and to bring back memories. 
• Check with your local library or senior center to see if they have classes on writing  a memoir. 

 Share your story  with a couple of friends or family members and ask for comments.  Most people will cheer you on.  You have begun your memoir. Keep writing.

More to think about:

How to Write a Memoir: 13 Steps for a Gripping Life Story

Six Steps to get you started in writing your memoirs 

NOT in the slow lane, YET

The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will be health, retirement, fashion, travel, and living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.com or by email if you choose. Come walk with me.

Turn a grumpy rant into a smile!

Someone wrote to my blog NOT in the slow lane YET that I viewed the world through rose-colored glasses.  I need to clear up that misunderstanding. Sometimes I am a crabby senior citizen who thinks the world is going to hell. Grrrrr.

This little note written by an unknown source appeared in my email. I threw my arm in the air and fist pumped, “You tell em girl!”

Not only does my grocery store have me bag my groceries in personal shopping bags (or get charged for paper ones),  but the cashier no longer handles cash.  I need to pull cash from a clear plastic bag in my purse (I know that sounds a little looney, but bills are easier to see than in a wallet), and  I put it in an elaborate change apparatus.   After my purchase, it proceeds to cough out bills and coins, some falling to the floor where I retrieve them while anticipating a scream from my sciatic nerve.

Years ago, I forecast that the decline of service would escalate.  I think it began when we started pumping  our own gas.  In my childhood, an attendant pumped gas. In rich communities, attendants wore snappy uniforms.  In poor communities, they crawled out from under cars they were working on to do the gas pumping duties.

Attendants not only pumped gas but checked oil and tire pressures and washed car windows.   

Herb Timms invented the system in 1964 that allowed an attendant in the store to activate the gas pumps without leaving the store. It was a cost-saving device.  Fewer people needed to be hired. It took a while to catch on because most states had  fire codes that did not allow self-service and because it was costly to implement.   

Forty-eight states changed their fire codes to allow for individuals to pump their own gas by the early l980’s.   The devices were not cheap: they cost $10,000. It took years to get the system widely available.

When she was in her nineties (about 2010), my mother had a gas station in her small town of Abbotsford Wisconsin she called “Widows’ Gas Station” where an attendant  pumped gas, checked tires and washed windows.  It survived until that time because the device was costly and there were quite a few widows in town who bought their gas.

What is in our future?  A nursing home staffed by robots?  An ATM Pharmacy?  A phlebotomist kiosk for blood tests?   List future machines that might take over for people. Draw a picture like I did.  It might make you smile.

“A Brief History of Self-Serve Gas Stations” By Petroleum Service Company on Jan 22, 2018

Go from GRRRRR to GRIN. Laugh more!

“Stress relief from laughter? It’s no joke,” Mayo Clinic