Why it's important to ask "Why me?"
Pretending to be old when we were still clueless.When my grandmother was in her 90s, she needed to be wheelchaired through the airport. Embarrassed and humiliated, she whined like a petulant child. Once, she told me, “I never thought this would happen to me.” From my perspective of youth and good health, I thought, What did you expect of old age?
When my mother at 80-something needed an airport wheelchair, she had a better attitude about aging and its accouterments. She wasn’t exactly happy, but she was resigned and cooperative.
Last week, I flew to see my sister in Chicago, and—not for the first time—I needed a wheelchair to get through O’Hare Airport. I’m 66.
Depending on your perspective, I’m either unfortunate or blessed.In The Weird Surprise of Growing Old, which coincidentally appeared in my inbox as I worked on this newsletter, author Catherine Hiller states, “I don’t know a single person of 70 or older who is not astonished that they, too, have grown old.”
It’s not that I’m an early bloomer of surprise, it’s that I don’t consider myself old, and yet there I was in that damn wheelchair.
I was grateful for the assistance. My bionic but underperforming, painful knees could not have carried me from plane to taxi. When I ventured away from the gate with my cane in search of a snack or restroom, people were helpful—almost too helpful— stepping aside to let me pass, treating me with deference better saved for the truly elderly.
It’s comforting to know kind people still exist (although as a white, cis woman, I wonder if the same people would be equally kind to someone not like me). And yet, something about the too-niceness bugged me. It made me feel old. Helpless. Self-conscious. I didn’t want to depend on others. I wanted to hold my own. I wanted to be perfectly capable of getting through the airport and fighting the crowds without assistance, thank you very much.
Except I was not capable. Am not capable—not for the foreseeable future, anyway—and I resent it. As my grandmother said, I never thought this would happen to me. Maybe in my 80s or 90s, but not in my 60s.
Depending on your perspective, I’m either unfortunate or blessed.
In the seats in front of me on the plane sat a woman around my age with her adult daughter who had obvious physical disabilities and appeared to be nonverbal. I overheard the woman say they were flying on to Houston. For this twosome, as for many others, a wheelchair may represent freedom and the opportunity for adventure. * For me, my chair felt limiting and confining.
If I dare to ask Why me of life’s inconveniences—Why did my dual knee replacements fail?—I must also ask Why me of life’s privileges. Why did I get six decades of relatively good health? Why was I blessed with a secure middle-class existence? Why has my marriage of 42 years lasted?
Why did my son survive his childhood brain tumor when other children did not?
If I dare to ask Why me of life’s inconveniences, I must also ask Why me of life’s privileges.Asking Why me? in this way is a good reality check, a reminder that I am not more special or deserving of blessings than anyone else. If a cane, the occasional wheelchair, and painful knees are the worst the universe has to throw at me right now, then thank you, universe. I’ll (attempt to) handle the challenges with grace and humility.
In our circle of life, we never know what radii of events will intersect the circle, nor when. As I come to terms with what feels like old-age radii, new beginnings are also intersecting with my life.
Image by Pexels from PixabayMy son Steve and his wife Paige are expecting their first baby!
Grandparenting, here I comeThe baby is going to be a boy and, in a couple of weeks, I’m going to be a Nana.
“Nana” wasn't a moniker I liked at first. Almost 40 years ago, when I suggested to my mother that she go by Nana, she thought it sounded boring. Old-fashioned. But the name stuck and she was a fun, engaged, loving grandmother.
When considering my own grandmotherly identity, I also thought Nana sounded old-fashioned. Yet no other name seemed to fit. Now that I’ve embraced it, I have a sense of matriarchal history, my Nana and my children’s Nana channeling their wisdom through me.
My grandson will grow up a few hours away from me. I wish he lived within a few miles or minutes, but again, I ask Why me? Why am I blessed with a child who found a loving partner, both of whom are healthy enough to bear a child with whom I am welcome to build a relationship?
I don’t for a moment take the privilege for granted, and again, I thank the universe for the blessing.
In the coming years, no matter how my body ages, I’ll do whatever it takes to visit that sweet baby. If I have to wheel myself down the Massachusetts Turnpike and across mountains, over the river and through the woods 🎶, one thought will propel me:
This is an expectation of aging I’m glad to see fulfilled.
Image by Petra from PixabayI’ll leave you with the holiday wish I offer every year:
Stuff yourself with joy Gorge on goodwill Drink in all the love you can find.
*Two of my favorite people who write about disabilities are and Jaclyn Greenberg.
Growth: A Mother, Her Son, and the Brain Tumor They Survived.Medical gaslighting and a mother’s people-pleasing collide, shattering her expectations of motherhood and threatening the survival of her young son.
Click here for purchase linksKaren is a happily married, slightly frazzled working mother of two when her eight-year-old son, Matthew, develops a strange eye-rolling tic. Gradually, her high-energy kid becomes clumsy and lethargic, her “Little Einstein” a gifted program dropout. Karen knows something is wrong. But she can't get anyone to listen and lacks the backbone to crack the resistance. After three exhausting, desperate years, finally, an MRI reveals the truth: a brain tumor, squishing Matthew's brain into a sliver against his skull. Following a delicate surgery, doctors predict a complete recovery. But the damage from the delayed diagnosis prolongs Matthew's recovery, challenging Karen to grow in ways she never imagined.
A fast-paced page-turner told with candor, insight, and wit, Growth takes you on a rollercoaster of painful truths and hard-won transformations.
Available where books are sold or see purchase links here.
Where to listen to GROWTH on audiobook:More retailers will soon offer my book, so if your favorite listening site isn't included, check back in next month's newsletter.
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