I heard an expression the other day that stopped me in my tracks. It had the ring of a famous saying, although that turned out not to be the case. But more importantly, it had some real profundity. It said, simply, “Life ends in the middle of a sentence.”

Getting Your Life in Order

Life ending in the middle of a sentence basically means that the end of life is not tidy. And, I suspect, that is absolutely right.

The issue is essentially about getting – or not getting – your life “in order.” How many times have people spoken to you about this? It is one of those phrases that people start to use once they are over a certain age.

And those of us who have reached that certain age also begin to think about it. When the end comes, as it must someday, we want to be ready.

This sense of readiness can be about your mental state­ – making peace with yourself and others – or it can be about your things and your activities. It is the latter I want to address here.

Some people, may have already met this readiness goal. They will have carefully downsized both where they live and what they own.

In the process, they will have sorted all those old papers, with many thrown away and the important ones carefully organised. Their books will have been sorted and cut down to a minimum.

More significantly, they will have handed down all the precious memory-filled items that they wanted to ensure landed in the hands of a particular daughter or son. Or, perhaps, grandchild or, indeed, friend. They will have read through their last will and made sure it is in a safe place.

In sum, all that stuff that seems to accumulate over the years will have been substantially reduced. Everything will be in its place.

The process of ‘cleaning up’ after their demise will be easy. They will have left no mess behind. Congratulations are due.

Real Life

But is it really that easy? Can most of us be quite so fully organised? We may have tidy plans and a wish to do the right thing, but I question whether we can ever have such orderly lives. And, most importantly, would we wish to do so?

The image of everything being in its rightful place suggests that we have had our lunch, tidied up, put the plates away and are sitting quietly in an armchair waiting for the Grim Reaper to knock on the door.

In truth, life is not like that. We all have projects of one kind or another. For me, it is writing; for others it may be painting or knitting a special outfit for a grandchild or planning the next holiday.

Human beings don’t often put their feet up and wait. They get restless, they mooch around, and they get themselves stuck into something that interests them.

Even if they don’t have exact plans, they may well have dreams. This came home to me very vividly when I was looking after a man who was dying of AIDS roughly 30 years ago. We were writing a book together about living with AIDS and had become good friends.

He had done comparatively well, living longer than anyone expected, but his body was beginning to let him down. As someone active in the AIDS community, he was well aware of his situation. I helped him out where I could.

Among the errands, he asked of me was to post a letter, together with a coupon, to a company offering a free trip to the Caribbean to a lucky winner in several months’ time. I remember walking to the nearest post box wondering why I was doing this obviously pointless task.

But I knew that such dreams were part of what was keeping him alive. In fact, he died two weeks later.

My Own Experience

Although I would dearly love to know that my life was “in order,” I have not yet tackled this process. I keep thinking about downsizing, but like St. Augustine and chastity, I say, “Oh Lord, not yet.”

I have thrown away a lot of papers, given away many books, and made some lists that will make life easier for my children when they come to cope with my death.

But I have not yet moved from a large house, suitable for when my children were home, and still own a lot of things that should properly be moved elsewhere.

More importantly, I have numerous projects still to go. I am nearly finished with one book and am planning another. There are books I want to read.

My family photographs are in a mess and need to be sorted if those who remain behind want to know who was who. A long list of things To Be Done sits on my desk.

And there are aims for the future that will never get finished. I want to see my grandsons grow up and find out what they choose to do with their lives. If I live long enough, I will feel the same about any potential great-grandchildren. So, there is no end ever in sight.

We don’t stop until we are stopped. At that point, we will be in the middle of loads of things. There will always be a long To Do list. In short, we will be in the middle of a sentence.

And this is how it should be.

This was first published on SixtyandMe.com (see https://sixtyandme.com/getting-your-life-in-order-before-it-ends-too-soon-can-it-ever-be-accomplished/)

Time is a very strange phenomenon. For most of our lives, we don’t have enough. We struggle with children and jobs and housework and think “If only I had more time, I would get on with…” whatever it is we hope to do.

Even in our older years, days seem to disappear. It may be grandchildren instead of children and volunteer work instead of jobs, but there are still things we mean to do – but don’t. Or there are things we do, but feel we could do more of, if only there was more time.

It Doesn’t Feel Like There Is More Time Now

And here we are, presented with vast stretches of time, since the widespread shutdowns mean we are unable to do the things we used to. We cannot visit the grandchildren, never mind friends, and we cannot even get out for long.

Indeed, if we fall in a category labelled “old,” we are not supposed to do much. We are told to stay at home and keep healthy. Suddenly, there is loads of time.

But are we doing all these things we meant to do? For the most part, my guess is no. You meant to clean out the attic or sort out all those books, but those jobs have been forgotten for the moment.

Or perhaps you meant to learn Spanish or flower arranging or some other worthwhile past-time. It could all be done virtually, yet you probably haven’t. Or there were books you wanted to sit down to read.

You thought there would be loads of time. But somehow it doesn’t feel that way.

Where Does the Time Go?

So, where does our time go? Perhaps you have trouble sleeping and sleep late, as a result. There is the news that we need to keep up with. And your children phone frequently to check how you are, not to mention that long lost friend who rang yesterday morning and spent an hour discussing the virus situation.

Shopping is time consuming and often irritating, because stock isn’t there and people push in. Meals take longer, as you probably prepare it yourself, and then there is the news again.

And, of course, there is trying to keep healthy. In the UK, we are encouraged to have a short period of exercise outdoors, and I do try to get out, walking briskly in my quiet neighbourhood.

I also set myself the goal of running up and down the stairs every day – very good cardio work, but never done before. And I do some yoga on a mat at home. You may do different things.

Not to mention all the activities you undertake to try to lower anxiety and keep yourself calm. Some like jigsaw puzzles. Or adult colouring books. Some do gardening, even puttering about with plants in a flat. Some do actual meditation.

And before you know it, the day is done.

And it is the same the next day, with different permutations. Ground Hog day, as several people have observed. No time for getting on with all those other plans.

Being Unsettled

But time is not really the issue. The real problem is your state of mind. You are restless, you can’t settle. You are worried about elderly and vulnerable relatives.

You are worried about the impact of the economic changes on your financial situation – not to mention that of your children and their families.

Your emotions are running high, your mind lacks any clarity, and it is no time for getting things done. There is always tomorrow.

How do I know all this? I have talked to loads of friends and it is a common lament.

But I am also a writer. I write books where different kinds of people (including grandmothers) talk about their lives.

Writers need to be self-disciplined in order to produce their books. In normal times, they must be able to negotiate the distractions all around them, including their own family, to get down to work. They tend to put on invisible blinkers to get themselves in the right frame of mind to push out the words.

I recently posted a short note on two Facebook groups for writers (generally used to ask technical questions, as well as for support) saying I found it difficult to write in the last weeks.

I expected five or ten replies in both cases, at most. In fact, I received over 100 replies on each site from writers all over the world, almost all describing their inability to settle. And hating it.

If those of us who are used to coping with distraction can’t settle, what hope is there for everyone else?

Outliers

Of course, there will always be some who say, “What is all the fuss about?” They are clearing their attics or reading those long books and generally taking advantage of all this available time. Even writers managing to write. More power to them. They are the lucky ones.

But if you are not, don’t be too hard on yourself. If you have ‘lost’ a few weeks, it really doesn’t matter in the long term. Concentrate on what you can do. And most of all, you are not alone.

Postscript

Yes, it has been a difficult time. Some of us have lost loved ones. Almost everyone will emerge poorer for one reason or another. It will eventually be a greyer world – at least for a while.

But it will end. And then you may feel more at peace with yourself and be able to take advantage of free time. Even before that, some may even begin to see some glimpses of a calmer head. This article is the first I have produced in three to four weeks. But I am pleased to see that it is written.

And I hope it helps.

This was first published on SixtyandMe.com (see https://sixtyandme.com/about-time-can-we-ever-have-enough-of-it/)

In these new and – as everyone says – ‘unprecedented’ times, we are all stuck indoors, with a lot of time on our hands. I don’t know about you, but I am watching a lot more television than usual.

This has made me reminisce about all the good programmes I have watched over the years. I was thinking that the people responsible for planning programmes should put on repeats of some wonderful series from decades past.

It has also reminded me of the children’s TV I have been exposed to over my life. Would you like to take a trip down memory lane with me?

Children’s Television When We Were Children

In my own case, there was very little TV at all.

Growing up as a small child in Washington, DC, in the late 1940s, there was only one TV show for kids (or perhaps the only one I knew about, but I am sure there weren’t many at all). It was called The Howdy-Doody Show, and all I can remember is the beautiful (as I saw her) Princess SummerFall WinterSpring. I wanted to be her when I grew up.

My parents didn’t have a TV, so every day the show was on, I would walk up three doors in my street to my friend’s house where we would watch it together, sitting side by side on the floor. I suspect is was actually pretty terrible.

Anyone else remember this programme?

By the early 1950s, there were more shows, including one where you could submit your artwork and win a prize, with your name then read out on the programme. Although I always was (and remain) a terrible artist, I submitted something and won a prize. That sort of thing stays with you.

Just as children’s TV was really taking off, I was growing too old for it. I do recall The Micky Mouse Show, which involved real children. I saw this occasionally when looking after younger children and still remember the music and the marching around.

Later Children’s TV

As we all know, television programmes for children mushroomed over time. It wasn’t until I had small children, in the 1970s and 80s that I took any interest. There was a wealth of choice, including some fairly awful cartoons.

But without doubt, the best of these programmes was Sesame Street. I watched this regularly with both my children and felt I knew it well. It was genuinely fun to watch by adults, as well as by children.

Indeed, not long ago, I was writing to a friend and apologising for making a mistake. And quick as a flash, the song came to me, “Everyone makes mistakes and so do I!”.

Anyone who watched Sesame Street for any time would remember this. It was sung by Big Bird. I can still visualise him (her?) singing it, rocking to the beat with enthusiasm. I can certainly sing the tune.

Many of the characters remain with me still. Big Bird is easy to remember. Also, Bert and Ernie, with their philosophical discussions. And Miss Piggie, who was memorable, but much less interesting.

But my favourite was Kermit the Frog, singing “,” a sad song for all people who feel they are somehow misfits. I watched it recently, and it remains incredibly poignant. As one of the comments below the video says, “It made me laugh and cry at the same time.” Do have a listen for yourself.

I’m not sure there has ever been better children’s TV in terms of style as well as content. Certainly, Peppa Pig, which is the only programme I watched with my grandchildren, was very anodyne in comparison.

The Influence of TV

There was a time when people used to worry about the influence of television on children. I don’t feel that it had much influence on me, although my generation had much less to watch, and it is difficult to know in any case.

I never worried much about its influence on my children, although that doesn’t mean I was right. Nowadays, people worry about computer games instead. But that is another story.

In any case, I suspect there are whole cohorts of older people who remember the same TV shows from their own childhood or that of their children or even grandchildren.

Now that we must stay home for our own safety, perhaps we can look for those TV shows we liked the best and watch them again.

(This article was initially published by SixtyandMe (see https://sixtyandme.com/watching-more-tv-these-days-lets-remember-childrens-tv-programmes-from-our-past/

Do you remember when you thought your parents were so out of date, it was almost embarrassing? They didn’t know anything about the music you listened to. And all sorts of words that seemed really sophisticated to you were unknown to them.

Well, the world turns, as we know, and suddenly you may find that you aren’t in much a different situation.

There are numerous ways in which I feel no longer up to date. Here, I want to talk about words. Before you read further and panic, there is a glossary below.

A Whole New Vocabulary

I knew that young people like to use words differently. What I did not know was how much they like to do so. I asked my 13-year-old grandson for a few examples and was overwhelmed by his response.

These may be international or limited to England or, indeed, South London teenagers. I have subsequently been told that some are quite old, yet still unknown to me.

Are there any peng foods out there? Or are they all butters?

Do you have friends who are extra? Are they sick? Are you ever salty? Or gassed?

There are many more, but this gives you an idea.

Yes, it is hard to keep up. Certainly for me. Sometimes I feel I come from another planet. Perhaps you are doing better.

Acronyms

I always knew there were acronyms, very popular on social media and to some extent texts. I have used some in my time, like FYI, which goes back to working in an office in the 1960s, or ETA, which is very old.

I have even learned a few new ones in recent years, such as LOL and FOMO.

Again, I asked a younger friend who uses Facebook a lot for a few examples and was taken aback by the variety. She told me about IRL and IKR and BAE.

I asked a different friend for advice last week, nothing to do with this article, and he signed off HTH. I had to write to ask what that meant.

Do any of these mean anything at all to you? If so, you are doing well!

Emojis

I don’t know whether to call emojis ‘words’ or something else. As a writer, I don’t like them, as it is with words that we can best specify precisely what we want to say. I have certainly never used an emoji in my life.

But I do receive them. Sometimes, I get one attached to a text message, and I have no idea what emotion it is supposed to convey. How are we supposed to know?

Do You Try to Keep Up?

We older people have a choice. We can accept our position as oldies and get on with our lives.

Or we can try to fit in. Which can lead to problems. David Cameron, when he was Prime Minister not that long ago, famously used LOL in a text, thinking it meant Lots of Love. But no, it meant Laugh Out Loud. The world tittered, but he had my sympathy.

I know where I belong. I have not heard of the singers who are well known to my children, not to mention grandchildren. Nor do I have the vocabulary to distinguish the multiple forms of what we used to call simply ‘pop’ music.

Newspapers are awash with stories of the antics of celebrities whose names are unknown to me. Very odd.

Once you get used to your place in this particular hierarchy, it is fine.

And Remember

Our grandchildren cannot easily imagine being old themselves. But we know it will happen, even if we are not around to see it. And we know that they will suddenly find themselves out of date. Good luck to them.

As I wrote above, the world keeps turning.

A Basic Glossary

Peng                     good looking or good tasting food

Butters                 the opposite to peng

Extra                    being over-dramatic about everything

Sick                      something that is ‘awesome’

Salty                    being angry or sore loser

Gassed                very proud of yourself, really happy

FYI                       for your information

ETA                      expected time of arrival

LOL                     laugh out loud

FOMO                 fear of missing out

IRL                      in real life

IKR                      I know, right?

TFW                    that feeling when

BAE                     significant other (may come from Before All Else, but derivation disputed)

HTH                   hope that helps

I would like to thank my grandson, James, for his help with this article.  It was first published by Sixtyandme (see https://sixtyandme.com/as-a-boomer-do-you-feel-out-of-date-in-todays-modern-world/)

Usually, when anyone writes about the joys of bed, they are thinking of one of two things: the pleasures of a good night’s sleep or, alternatively, of sex. I am a great believer in both, but I am not writing about either here.

No, bed means more than either of these activities.

Taking a Rest

First, lets face it. As we grow older, we also grow tired. Some days I have plenty of energy, but some days I have very little. I get out of bed in the morning and immediately wish I were back there. Or half-way through the day, I need a bit of a lie-down.

I find a number of friends also say the same, especially the older ones.

For the first time since we were of pre-school age, some of us begin to take a nap – either every day or now and then. I am reluctant to take a proper (sleeping) nap, because it leaves me unable to get to sleep at night. I envy those who can do so with impunity.

But there is nonetheless a great benefit in a rest. I recall, as a small child, being told I had to spend an hour lying on my bed and was allowed to do anything except (which I called “be-cept”) reading.

Now, we can read, we can listen to the radio or to audio books (I favour programmes stored for this purpose on my iPod).

Or we can just lie there and think our own thoughts. It is a very peaceful time and can be very restorative. The trick, of course, is not to fall asleep!

Recent research seems to suggest that people who take occasional naps have a notably lower risk of heart-related disease and may live longer. I am not a medical doctor and cannot comment on this, but I found it interesting.

A Cuddle and a Chat

The other use of a bed is also restorative, but in a different way. You lie down with your partner, with no sexual intentions of any kind, and just give each other time to discuss anything that is on either of your minds.

It is a good time to review ideas, mull over plans for the future, and just explore how you are feeling about life in general.

Although it may result in some general or even particular decisions, it should not feel purposeful. On the contrary, it is time to let your mind wander over anything, including your relationship.

Lying down with someone is a very intimate activity, even when nothing physical is involved. Being prone on a bed seems to make you let down your guard, so that you are more willing to talk easily.

Sometimes, the fact that you can’t actually see each other makes it less intimidating than sitting at a table or in a living room. It is not surprising that lying down is the chosen posture for people in some forms of psychotherapy.

These chats can happen early in the morning, when you are just waking up, or, indeed, at night before going to sleep. But they can also happen in the middle of the day, when it feels even more special.

The older I get, the more I value this form of ‘together’ time.

Other Family Members

Interestingly, it can also be a time of intimacy with other family members. One grandson, who spends roughly one night a week at our house, loves to climb into bed with Granddad in the morning. (Long ago, said Granddad agreed to sleep in the nearby spare room to allay any worries in the night.)

This early morning time has become one of many rituals, when they talk about anything and everything, and is sadly missed if for any reason (like waking up too late to have the time before school) it is impossible to accommodate.

An Indian woman in my book about grandmothers’ lives also describes such moments with her grandchildren as very special: “You can’t buy that happiness anywhere,” she says.

This was initially published by sixtyandme.  See https://sixtyandme.com/the-many-joys-lying-in-bed-can-bring-to-a-senior-woman/

As we move into our ‘senior years’, a whole lot of new questions begin to emerge in our day-to-day thinking. Some of us may look into the future and begin to worry about coping with long term illness or, indeed, dying.

Others, in contrast, may begin to think about the past. Were we happier then? Was it easier then? Would we, in short, prefer to be young again? And, if so, how young?

Start with Childhood

Some people say that childhood represents the happiest years, when we were completely carefree and responsible for nothing much at all.

Circumstances differ, of course, but for most people, it was a time when we simply had to get up in the morning, get ourselves to school, play with our friends and, perhaps, do the odd chore.

Personally, I think childhood is greatly over-rated. Certainly, for some it was an easy and enjoyable time, but others will remember it as a time of great stress. You don’t understand the world, you don’t know where you are going in life, your ‘friends’ can be difficult and sometimes even bullies.

Worst of all, you don’t understand yourself – neither your strengths nor your weaknesses.

Some people look back and see only the positive. But I had problems in my own childhood and then watched both my children experience problems and now my grandchildren as well.

I would not go back to childhood for the world.

Teenage Years

Becoming a teenager is undoubtedly exciting, as you begin to explore the wider world and its possibilities. But it is a time of such angst that it is hard to think anyone would ever want to repeat it.

Is there anyone who would want to be a teenager again? In my view, this is a question that answers itself.

20s and 30s

Once you are past the worst of adolescence, it does seem to me that life becomes a little easier. You have begun to settle into a profession or job of some kind. You are exploring personal relationships, perhaps choosing a partner and having children.

Yes, it is exciting. A lot of new joys. A new partner or husband! A new baby or two! Learning new responsibilities at work. Beginning to get a sense of yourself.

But as I look back, I also see a lot of problems.

The period of one’s twenties is particularly problematic. You are officially an adult, but frequently don’t feel or act like one. It’s not easy to find a permanent place to live and, indeed, many young people these days continue to live with their parents.

More difficult still, a lot of people feel the pressures of not really knowing where they are heading in terms of a career. If they have chosen something, they wonder whether they will be good enough. Some may also question whether their chosen partner is, in fact, the right one.

Perhaps it all becomes easier in your thirties. Some issues have clarified themselves for good or ill. But you see yourself approaching the big 40 and wonder whether you have done well enough.

Everyone is busy and pulled in many directions – the search for promotion, the needs of the partner and kids.

Often, you find that even your friends are too busy to talk.

Is that so great?

Midlife and Beyond

At least by the time you are in your ‘middle years’ you know yourself reasonably well. You have learned how to pursue your strengths and how to live with your own limitations.

You have finished having all the kids you will ever have, which may be seen as a joy or a relief or the source of considerable unhappiness. But you know where you are in this respect.

You may also be coping with menopausal symptoms, which may be no difficulty at all or be the cause of major problems.

And you may be coping with the famous twin pressures of adolescent children and ageing parents, both of whom need your attention. For some, this can be the most stressful period of their lives.

Looking Back

These are all very personal thoughts, which undoubtedly depend on the trajectory of your life and that of those around you.

In my own view, the older you get, the better it gets. Not everyone will agree. A lot of it will depend on the simple issue of health.

A friend of mine, for instance, who found himself quite ill and tired at the age of 70, asked me whether I would prefer the normal spread of ages or to be age 65 all my life. He said he preferred the latter. I was not so sure.

Perhaps, like me, you are glad you went through all those stages but are happy to be where you are. Or not.

Of course, if you could be all those earlier ages with the confidence and wisdom you have now, perhaps the answers would be different. But that would be cheating!

This was first published on sixtyandme.com (see https://sixtyandme.com/would-you-like-to-be-young-again/)

People everywhere are fascinated by sex. I am not the first to say so. We wonder what other people do and when and what it means to them. And some wonder how long it continues.

When I was in my 20s, I naively thought that sex was only for the young. It simply did not occur to me that people over 40 continued with such activities.

This was nothing to do with any connection to child-bearing, but simply to the assumption that only the young had an appetite for – or interest in – sexual relationships.

As we age, we learn more – about this as well as everything else. There is, of course, much more research now.

Surveys will tell you about the extent of sexual activity at different ages. But few of these involve people over 70. And we are often reluctant to raise the issue with people we know.

The Story of My Parents

Of all the stories I tell about my family, the one which always gains immediate attention is one about my father.

My parents lived in an independent apartment in a retirement community in central Pennsylvania. They moved in when they were both roughly 80 and died within three months of each other, 10 years later. That was nearly 20 years ago.

After about five years, my mother developed vascular dementia. This is, of course, every married person’s worst fear. The husband or wife is no longer what they once were, but you are still married. And it is harder and harder to cope with the sheer physical demands.

My mother remained in the family apartment for well over a year, with a caretaker having been hired to help with her daily needs.

But eventually, it was too much for my father to manage and it was agreed that she would move to the Assisted Living section of the community. She was looked after, but he could pop in several times a day to see her.

He rarely complained, at least to me. It was just something that had happened.

An Affair Begins at 90

In the meantime, his eyesight had worsened, and he was losing one of his great pleasures – reading. He listened to a lot of audiobooks (and complained that there was no easy way to find the place where you fell asleep).

He had a friend, a somewhat younger woman, who came in to read to him. He was terribly pleased about this and talked about it – and her – quite frequently in our regular phone calls.

I should have seen it coming. When a man starts mentioning a woman (or vice versa) quite often, it tends to mean that something more than friendship is involved. But it just didn’t occur to me.

My daughter suggested that it was a possibility and I thought, no, that is unlikely. Not because the thought upset me, but they just seemed too old.

I went to visit around the time of his 90^th birthday, when we were holding a party for him. Soon after I arrived, he sat down and clearly wanted to communicate something to me.

He had never sought very intimate discussions, but this time was different. He mentioned the name of the woman, who I had not yet met, and said he wanted me to know that they had become ‘an item’. I remember thinking the word was odd.

He was very clear. This was not ‘simply kissing and cuddling’, it was the real thing. Indeed, he said his doctor thought it was terrific for his health. There was no mention of love, but that did not seem important. The key thing was that he was happy. And he was. He was then 90 and she was 83.

I was surprised, but also delighted. Whatever my views about fidelity in marriage, they do not extend to the time when one partner is effectively no longer there. I made this very clear and could see him visibly relax.

He had wanted me to know but had been frightened of my reaction. He said his worst fear was that some other resident would tell my mother, but it did not look like that had happened. He still continued to visit her as before.

My father and his lady friend never moved in together, although perhaps they stayed in each other’s apartments when I was not there. I did not press for such details.

She continued to be a regular presence in his life until he died. Indeed, the night he died, she went to the hospital and sat with his body for a long time.

When Do People Stop Having Sex?

I don’t know when – and if – people stop having sex. I suspect there is a lot of it about. Certainly, in the retirement community, it was common for couples to spring up quite quickly after the death of a partner.

But I do know about my father. And when I tell this story, I have never heard a reaction other than “what a wonderful story” or “so, there’s hope then”. I’m sure he would be delighted for you to know.

This post was originally published with a different title on sixtyandme.com (see https://sixtyandme.com/the-taboo-topic-of-older-people-having-sex-lets-not-hide-from-the-facts)

An old friend and I were chatting recently via email. She had sent me a photograph she had taken of me earlier that day. I replied that it made me notice how very white my hair is and that I needed a haircut. It also reminded me that I am not as slender as I used to be.

She replied immediately to say I was “beautiful.” Which I am definitely not. I suddenly realised that she thought I was one of those women who don’t much like their own body and was seeking to reassure me.

I wrote back to say I have never felt ugly nor beautiful, but “pretty enough,” and it was not an issue for me. And she replied, “A rare and precious quality – being happy in your own skin.”

This stopped me in my tracks. Am I truly “comfortable in my own skin”? Do I feel happy about myself? Is it, indeed, a rare quality?

Of course, this has many meanings, but let us start with the physical one.

Physical Appearance

For as long as I can remember, it never occurred to me to feel that my face or body were not good enough. Yes, I was very short, but that couldn’t be altered (aside from wearing high heels).

Yet I didn’t feel the need to “fix” my body in some way. I never even liked wearing makeup and, after a few inelegant efforts, gave that up. I was – and have remained – a walking WYSIWYG (What You See Is What You Get).

It was only when I got into my 20s or so that I discovered this was not the case for all women. Many seem to feel their breasts are too large or too small, their backsides are too big, their noses are not the right shape, and so forth and so on.

And so, of course, the business of makeup was born (going back to Egyptian times, if not earlier) and, more recently, plastic surgery.

Much is the advice given about how to alter your physical appearance – dying your hair the right colour, doing the odd nip or tuck, and certainly applying loads of stuff to your face. Even the right colours to wear for you.

But does it make you happier, or indeed, more “comfortable in your own skin”? I honestly don’t know. That is certainly the intention.

Deeper Issues

But feeling happy, or simply comfortable, with yourself is grounded in much more than your physical appearance. Do you like yourself? Do you think people like you? Do you feel you have done enough to meet your early expectations of yourself?

Our initial view of ourselves must come from somewhere. This may be what our parents told us or how we compared to our siblings. Much labelling goes on within families “he’s the sporty one” or “she’s good with people” and this must rub off.

On the other hand, it may not be fully accurate. I was the middle child of three, with the other two being outstandingly clever. Despite reasonable grades in school, it took me years to realise I was really quite bright as well. It hadn’t seemed so, by comparison, in my formative years.

Our view also comes from our classmates, not only in those many years of school, but also if we go to university and beyond. We may get a reputation for studying or partying or being good at politics. We may have loads of friends or very few.

We try somehow to work out who we are and what we are good at. And how much do certain qualities and skills matter – to us or anyone else?

And many a novel has been written about the rest of life! It has a way of throwing you a hand-up or pushing you down. An abusive partner is very likely to flatten self-confidence, just as a quiet but admiring one will do the opposite. Success in work is much the same.

I cannot do justice to the issue here, but it is all part of the process of learning.

This post was first published by sixtyandme.com (see https://sixtyandme.com/how-happy-do-you-feel-in-your-own-skin-growing-old-may-have-something-to-do-with-it/)

It is said that once a mother, you are always a mother. However old your son or daughter may be, they are always your children. This may be right, but it is a blessing and a curse. Most of us cannot escape it.

The Nature of Motherhood

This realisation came home to me a week or so ago when I passed a restless night, even waking at one point in a clear state of panic.

I don’t know what I was dreaming, but it was probably one of those dreams where you can’t get to where you want to go. All I know is that I was visibly shaken, and it took awhile to settle back down.

I knew immediately that I was worried for my son. But why? Was he a new-born, and was I a new mother who knows absolutely nothing and worries about every little thing? Nope.

Had he just started nursery school, when you worry about whether they will manage without you for the first time? No, not that either.

Was he at the end of secondary school, when you worry about whether they will get into the college or apprenticeship of their choice? Wrong, again.

No, I was worried about an interview he was having the following day for a job that would make his life very much easier (due to its location) and set him on a good ladder for his professional career. He is not new-born, nor age three or even age 18.

He is, indeed, in his late 30s, married, a father himself, and completely independent. He doesn’t need my worry at all.

Worrying

Are you more easy-going than this – or do you worry, like me, in such circumstances? Do you feel it deeply when your no-longer-young children pass through important life stages?

Perhaps you worry whether your daughter will juggle a new baby with her developing career. Perhaps you worry whether your son’s new girlfriend is entirely suitable. Perhaps you see signs of mental instability or too much alcohol and wonder what you should do.

There are a myriad of circumstances and important decisions they will make, over which you have no control.

And I don’t mean worry in the sense that we worry slightly over loads of day-to-day irritations. I mean worry in the sense that it is immediate and palpable to you. You begin to be easily distracted when you should be thinking about other things. Or lose sleep. Perhaps you even lose your appetite.

This is a deep-down, umbilical-cord-still-attached kind of worry.

And it doesn’t help that we mothers of middle aged children are the subject of ridicule all over the world. I am sure we have all seen some movie where the young hero has to stop an important business meeting to deal with his over-protective and very annoying mother on the telephone.

It is always shown from the child’s point of view, too. The mother should have let go a long time ago.

Developing Coping Strategies

For those of us who do worry, it must be said that we probably have little control over the matter. The important issue is not what we feel, but what we do about it.

We all need to develop coping strategies for such moments. Go to the gym or for a long walk. Talk to your spouse or partner. Or a friend. More than once. Read a distracting book. Meditate.

The main thing is not to put our problems onto the very sons and daughters we are worried about. Avoid making a nuisance of yourself, however hard that might be. And, most certainly, don’t make that phone call.

When interviewing women for my book on being a grandmother, one woman made a very wise a comment about giving advice on parenting:

“Every grandmother has to be issued with a zip [finger across lips]. There’s a fine line between help and interference and you have to learn it. Nobody can teach it to you, because everybody’s experience is different.”

The same is true for other aspects of our children’s lives, however old they are. It’s not easy and I don’t always succeed myself, but it’s good advice.

Afterthought

In case you’re wondering, he got the job.

I wonder what I will worry about next?

This post was initially published by SixtyandMe.com.  See http://sixtyandme.com/of-mothers-and-adult-children-how-do-you-cope-with-thoughts-that-make-you-worry/

My very friendly next-door neighbours moved back to the US last month. In many ways, it was not a surprise, as they were always going to be visitors in London – here because of the husband’s job. Yet it came as both a shock and a loss.

Perhaps I am not alone in this position.

The Role of Neighbours

The role of neighbours in our lives is an interesting one. They may become good friends, of course, but often – however friendly you are with them – there is a certain amicable distance.

You meet on the doorstep when putting out the trash or even stop in the street for a chat when out shopping.

I have neighbours with whom I can have lengthy discussions about the schooling of our grandchildren or the state of the world. Such talks can be so engrossing that my husband begins to worry what happened to me when I had only popped out for some milk.

You also do all sorts of small things for one another, like taking in packages or offering the proverbial cup of sugar. Perhaps you occasionally water a garden or keep an eye on the cat.

The Importance of Neighbours

It might be said that neighbours now substitute for what the larger family traditionally did as a matter of course.

When extended families used to live near each other (or, indeed, with each other), it would often be the older generation who would come to the rescue when there was a problem.

As I have written in my book about grandmothers, this can still happen, but often people simply live too far away.

We, for instance, often step in for a 15-minute babysit when a neighbour with three kids has one child suddenly down with the flu and needs to get the others to school.

Although these little niceties are small, they make life so much richer. Not to mention easier. You may not see the neighbours all that much or you may see them often, but you feel more comfortable knowing they are around.

Getting to Know Your Neighbours

Big cities are famous for not being very friendly places, with people feeling lonely in the midst of a large population.

This may be true for many, but you may be surprised that a lot of people do get to know their neighbours. In some countries, this is easy, with very little required for people to break the ice.

In the UK, with its tradition of people keeping to themselves, it can be more difficult. Children are a great enabler of friendliness. I certainly met some of our neighbours through our children and, now, through our grandchildren. I believe dogs serve much the same purpose.

Some places seem to have a tradition of neighbourhood friendliness. I know of one family who, on the day of moving in to their new house, were greeted by a bottle of wine and a friendly note from those living nearby.

Unfriendly Neighbours

Not everyone has friendly neighbours, of course. This is often a nightmare scenario. You hear shouting, or worse, and don’t know what to do. They have loud parties or don’t clean up their rubbish and it all affects your quality of life.

Sometimes, they are doing nothing more than enjoying their garden, talking to friends well into the night or, as we used to experience, barbecuing fish. You can’t really complain, but you wish they wouldn’t do it.

Years ago, we had some very unfriendly neighbours who threw rubbish over our common fence and once threw a brick through our window. We called in the police, who claimed that there was little they could do. We moved soon after.

Moving Away

There are many things we may take for granted until they are gone. One of these, in my view, is friendly neighbours. If you have lived in the same place for a long time, you know them quite well. And you know you can ask them for help (and are happy to reciprocate).

If they move, you will miss them.

And if you want to move, it does make you stop and think. As we are at the age of down-sizing, we have begun to consider the road ahead. There are numerous pros and cons, and it is an easy decision to put off.

But I realised that I felt strongly that one of the ‘pulls’ to staying put was the existence of so many people in my road who would help us if we needed it. This can be hard to establish in a new place. It certainly gave us pause.

We Like to Know They Are There

Years ago, I was designing a questionnaire on levels of involvement among members of patient support groups. It was easy to specify committee membership or frequency of meeting attendance, but I felt there was something more passive but subtle.

I came up with “I don’t attend my local group often, but I like to know it is there.”

Bingo; that was ticked more than anything else.

Afterwards, I thought this is a category that comes up in life quite often – the things we don’t use actively, but we are very pleased to know that they are there.

Good neighbours come under this heading.

This was first posted on Sixtyandme.com (see http://sixtyandme.com/how-important-are-your-neighbours-as-you-reach-the-mark-of-60/)