On Being 80
WHEN I REACHED AGE 70, I felt a sense of accomplishment, a bit of weird pride. At 75, I had a similar feeling. But when I turned 80 last year, things felt different. It was like I was an overachiever. Suddenly, the future wasn’t as long.
For many years, I’d searched for a high school friend who’d been my navigator at sports car rallies, but with no luck. Then, recently, I stumbled across his obituary. He died 20 years ago, at age 60.
Three of my four Army buddies are gone, as is my lifelong friend from age four, who succumbed to the effects of Agent Orange after three tours in Vietnam. I appreciate being 80.
Some people act their age. I try not to. Nobody I ask thinks I’m 80—at least that’s what they claim. I’m not sure how they expect an 80-year-old to act. I don’t like being perceived as old. More than once, while on a call with a customer service representative, I’ve been told I don’t sound my age.
While in Florida this winter, I tripped getting out of a car. My iPhone went flying and I landed flat on my face. I cracked a couple of ribs and smashed a knee. A young man rushed up to see if I needed help getting up. I didn’t. I thanked him, but I was embarrassed. Was this the beginning of the end?
Looking around, there are many 80-somethings who look and act 80-something. I can’t help the way I look, but I sure try to not act my age. I don’t drive in the left lane at 40 mph and I remember to turn off the directional signal—and the oven as well.
We all age differently, so I’m not mocking my peers who struggle. Still, it seems some behavior at 80 is an extension of lifelong attitudes and habits. Too many people go through life oblivious to important things around them. They fail to plan and consequently suffer. Inflation matters to retirement finances. Having sufficient money is vital or debt can overwhelm you. This can lead to financial struggles and playing catch-up in old age.
I asked an artificial intelligence program how to know if I’m old. I checked all the boxes. Yes, I’m 80, I have gray hair of minimal quantity, I have some wrinkles and I need more sleep.
The other factor it listed was activities. Eighty-somethings prefer staying in over going out late, and prioritize comfort over fashion. Heck, that described me at age 30.
My theory is you know you're old when your children start giving you advice, rather than asking for it. What? Does my experience count for less as I age? I take comfort in knowing lots of stuff, even if that stuff happened 60 years ago.
There are limits, though. Once a three-year-old grandson asked me if I ever had a pet dinosaur. No, but I do have the latest iPhone.
Eighty is a pretty good number if you play golf. I haven’t made that score yet, but my age and my score are getting closer, and not because I’m a better golfer.
Stairs are not a problem for me yet, but a major one for my wife Connie. My pace on the stairs and walks needs to match hers. My appetite has declined. I just fill up faster and the doggy bag is now a way of life.
I find the simple things more appealing, like getting up each morning, making a cup of coffee, and checking on both HumbleDollar and my own blog. I also look forward to days when there’s nothing planned and nothing in particular to think or worry about. In reality, those days are a bit rare.
Nowhere in my research did I find that aging affects the curmudgeon factor. That said, Connie is more frequent with her “you’re acting like an old man” comments.
I was in a coffee shop recently and began talking to a toddler who smiled at me. After a minute, the mother gently pulled the child toward her, as if protecting him from a dirty old man. That hurt. I like being around children.
I also get along well with dogs. They like to have their back rubbed. Me, too.
We have long-term-care insurance but with limited coverage. Our chances of using it may increase with age. On the other hand, the duration of its possible use declines. There’s also a declining likelihood of our running out of money. Connie and I have lived in nine decades, and we’re hoping to hit 10.
Getting older creates new challenges. My Connie, age 85, is once again facing a serious health issue. Dealing with it is our challenge now, but we intend to press on with life and get even older. And we’re still grateful.
Richard Quinn blogs at QuinnsCommentary.net. Before retiring, Dick was a compensation and benefits executive. Follow him on Twitter @QuinnsComments and check out his earlier articles.
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