Is This Aging?

An article I wrote several years ago

     What is this aging all about?  Being seventy-six, I am getting to know a bit more about it.  Two years ago while I was working for my nonprofit and pushing myself, my only problem was not being able to remember things unless I wrote them down. 

     Before making a telephone call, I would write down the name of the person whom I was calling to prevent stumbling around trying to remember their name when they answered.  I would also make a list of what I wanted to talk about and had any documentation close by that I could quickly refer to if necessary.  As for trying to remember telephone numbers like I used to when I was younger, forget it.  I looked them up or used speed dial.   A list of what I wanted to do for the day kept me going, and I wouldn’t forget what I needed to do.

     In 2009 I gave away my nonprofit and slowly settled into retirement.  It was great not to push myself and take it a little easier.  Most of the time was used to prepare the house for sale, prepare for our move, and giving away many of the things we had stored from the past.

      The children now become the keepers of the memories, antiques, books, pictures, etc.  In 2010 we moved to what I called our permanent timeshare in Savannah.  Here life was different. We had to set up another life, daily schedule, meet new friends and develop new interests.

     We settled in, put everything in its place and prepared to enjoy our new life.  Gordon called up his old buddy, Chuck, and they began to play golf three days a week. Years ago I had taken art classes using oil paints. Because I did not like the mess and smell that emanated from the use of oils, I was determined to learn how to use watercolors. I discovered Peggy Cone, an old friend and watercolor artist, was still giving lessons.  I signed up and added one new thing to my schedule. 

     I wanted to become part of a bridge group as I never had enough time to really do this before.    I checked into the Duplicate Bridge Club on Ferguson Ave and began playing every Monday.  Since most of the people I played with in New Bern were life masters and I had been playing at that level for many years, I began to play with the A team.  They played by slightly different rules than I was used to and found it difficult to add and assimilate new information. I become very depressed and really did not want to play anymore because it would be three days before I felt good about myself.  

     I guess it was the aging process as I had never had that problem before.  In the past, I could pick up anything and run with it in a few days.  I decide I didn’t need to do this to myself and quit bridge cold turkey.  I decided I was punishing myself and looked for something else that I could do to keep busy.

    The Red Cross was looking for volunteers.  I  called, and my line went like this.  “I am a retired nurse, and I am computer literate; could you use me?” 

     Their emphatic answer was. “Yes.  And can you come in tomorrow?”

      I did, and I actually started that day.  I used all my old talents that I had used before, and I felt needed and good about myself again.  I was tapping into my longtime memory, and it gave me a new lease on life.

     Retirement is fine, but when one loses the sense of being or being needed, life begins to ebb.  As one ages, I do believe one has to work hard at just BEING.