To Be A Senior Citizen

Wally G, my first husband of 40+ years, used to scorn the word "senior," especially when it pertained to himself. He wouldn't even claim it to get a cheaper ticket at the movies. He also refused to be called Grandpa. "It's bad enough to be married to Grandma!" he'd say with a wink at me. So, he was known as "Wally G." by his grandkids.

I never let myself be bothered by becoming a senior citizen because I still felt young inside and didn't look too bad on the outside. At eighty I began to take added years as benefits, not as footsteps to the grave. These years give opportunities to retrieve some of the interests that had seemed lost. I bought myself a new piano and began playing it for my own pleasure. I renewed my interest in clay sculpting and took a class in slipcasting. I signed up for a writing class and joined a bridge group at the senior center nearby. I've never had the ambition to excel in any one thing so I decided not to aim for a huge footprint on the landscape by pressing for great achievements. I'd just go on dabbling in a number of things. Who wants to be another Grandma Moses anyway? You give yourself too much to live up to. My only goal is to do what pleases me most and listen to that inner guide that shows me what is really most pleasing. I'd call it neither selfish nor selfless but something in between.

 Recently my daughter set up this blog for me. "What shall we name it, Mom?" she asked. The name popped right into my mind. Getting Older Is Getting Better, I said. I would pitch my blogs to my own generation. Then I came across a book about seniors that gave me pause. After reading a few pages I realized for the first time that baby boomers are becoming seniors, and I am a mother of baby boomers! That puts a different light on the subject. Here I am writing a blog about being senior and the average senior who might read my blog will be a generation younger! Should I go on? Well, try to stop me! My blogs will be like messages in bottles thrown out to sea. The chance they might be found and read could be that much of a long shot too, but we'll see.

Once when Wally G and I were talking about what we might do if the other one died first. He said, "I'd go to live with Wally K and Nancy." (our first son and his wife) I said,"Oh no! You wouldn't want to be a burden on them,"

"Burden?" he replied. "Why I'd be an asset to their home!" I had to hand it to him. By golly, if he didn't think of himself as a senior citizen and that gave him a healthy sense of self worth, more power to him!

Wally G. got off the train of longevity about a quarter of a century ago. But me? Well, I'm still here and hoping to stay aboard the ship of life a good while longer, thank you. As I write maybe I'll look overboard and see if I can spot any other senior seniors' blogging bottles. Now that would be something! I'm not holding my breath though.