Aging is Not a Quiet Process

January 3, 2018

Dear Louie,

Some Thoughts ... HEAVENLY GUIDANCE

Again, I start with a blank page; blank at the present but filled with thoughts only a few hours ago. As I recall, then I had a number of good thoughts from which to expand and write notes to you; notes which would have been hilarious, cheerful, and fun to write and to read. But that was a few hours ago and now as I sit down to write I find a void of ideas, thoughts, and am devoid of material for composition.

I wonder just why, just why do I dry up, stop thinking, composing, writing; just what turns off the juices of composition. If truth be known I really never possessed writing skills but did possess a pretty good imagination and a damn good recall of events and happenings. Well, I guess am getting warmed up.

The past few weeks have been cold, the coldest December and January since 1880. I imagine in 1880 it was colder, the homes and rooms were cold, stayed cold, and after a while clothes stood in the corners - stiff, cold, and potentially smelly. I recall grade school, the rooms were chilly, we wore long underwear, stockings to above the knees and high-top shoes, knickers, sweaters, coats, stocking caps, galoshes, and had running noses for weeks.

What a time; we coughed, blew our noses, rubbed the snot from the upper lip, and thought of spring. It was so damn cold, and the school rooms were so cold; we were jealous of the Nuns, the wonderful teachers who had the warm robes which somehow smelled so good; like beautiful spring flowers. And we sat all day in long johns slightly soiled and smelling in various degrees. Gosh, the virtue of those interested persons, our teachers, in our lives, from seven to fourteen years of age. It was cold in the rooms but warm in their interest and hearts.

Now here in the Senior Center, our home for the present and for what future we shall have, well here it is warm, responsive to the thermostatic control, and demands of the aging limbs, well here when all systems are in control, it is warm, dry, and pleasant. Recently the boiler blew a coil; then it was cold, chilly, ad uncomfortable. Surprisingly no one really complained but after bitching for a bit, sat down, covered up, and waited for the clonking of returning steam to the system. It did start after coil replacement and the lesson learned is to call attention to the problem, bitch until attention is given, and then sit back, have a martini, and wait for correction of the difficulty. It worked and we now look for some other activity, such as writing and reading.

This morning we had a class, an explanation of a class at UW Milwaukee in aging. It seems the class is a series of interviews by a student and with a senior from the Senior Home. The discussion of sorts will take place over a three-month period when the student will appear at the Home, speak with and to the Senior person assigned to him or her; be interviewed, and hopefully will be able to understand some of the nuances of aging. We will see just how it develops.

This aging is not a quiet process; it is fraught with one significant problem, forgetfulness. To age is to forget; small things, large events, names and faces, events and promised events. To forget to “write it down” and if it is written, just where in the hell was it written, and where is the “book?” There are many steps in memory, and all are forgotten one at a time.

For each transgression, there is a “policeperson” with a memory of steel and a voice of discernment, and an attitude of recrimination. This in the bowels of a living unit becomes a battleground of misunderstanding and apologetic mannerisms. Somehow peace is made and life goes on. When living in a large home, the lack of proximity somehow defuses speaking events and misunderstandings which in a smaller area assume greater import. If added to misunderstanding of hearing loss, then the problem really gets out of hand and the actual misunderstanding of hearing is truly a problem, and, well then a problems does exist.

I do believe I have had some preparation to join in the course on understanding the aging population; that is if I might recall truisms of the past. Anyhow, I do believe I will join and see what the event might develop into. With the increasing number of Seniors increasing understanding must be recognized and eventually tolerated. Our society cannot be sustained with only the middle age being the working population. Somehow, the age of working for the early retirement section of society must be involved in productive work. I foresee an older population with physical vigor to work at a comfortable productive pace for another five or so years; until just over 70, instead of 65, the present retirement age.

If not addressed the numbers of retired non-productive persons will askew the balance of producers and non-producers to a point of social revolution. One might expect that a producing society will be able to support only so many retired persons before the balance no longer supports satisfied workers and their contributions.

We may see a workers’ strike when their taxable amount exceeds their expected reward for work done. At present, the burden is shifting to other considerations other than the social security law. A revolution is coming unless the lawmakers of Washington develop insight and accept changes in the function and range of the working force.

As one ages, a social conscience dictates thoughts of true security and the efforts to support an increasing number of long-living senior citizens. The equations of Social Security formulated when the average age of death was 60 to 65 for the working man, and retirement was 60 plus three or four years, were accurate in the thirties or forties, but no longer are actuarially correct. The drains on the Social Security system are too great to be sustained much longer.

So, Louie, put that in your legal pipe and come up with a heavenly solution. It is one thing for you to have died, another not to be in contact to help us who remain. All you must do is to recall how messed up the world was when you left and to think how much worse it might be at this time and in the future.

How about some heavenly guidance?