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Ageing & Growing Old

Are you growing older?

  • Yes, I am

    Votes: 82 61.7%

  • No, I'm getting younger

    Votes: 28 21.1%

  • Sorry, I don't understand the question

    Votes: 16 12.0%

  • I'm a Mod; I think adding silly polls to chat threads is pointless

    Votes: 7 5.3%
  • Total voters
    133
Dick Turpin said:
My old man will be 86 next Birthday. I speak to him on a regular basis on the phone, and pop round to see him every time I drive into London to watch Leyton Orient play football, and each time I do, I swear he’s getting more and more frail.

Over the years, and at quite considerable cost to his wallet, he has collected an army of tiny bronze soldiers. At least one platoon of every regiment of the British Army, including Calvary regiments on horseback, and armoured divisions. There are literally thousands of these toy soldiers, which are displayed in two large cabinets cases in his living room. They are his pride and joy.

Anyway, on Thursday afternoon, I was on my way to pick my son up from school, when my mobile phone rang. It was the old man. His tone was serious, and he wanted to talk about the toy soldiers. Basically, the next time I pop round to see him, he will have his entire collection packed up and ready for me to take them home with me. I told him not to be silly and asked him why he wanted to part with them, but he was most insistent and stressed how important it was for me to have them.

People do that when they feel they are on their way out of this world. I must admit it upset me a little bit and got me thinking that I must accept the fact that in all probability, he hasn't got long to go. :(
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This must be awful for you. It's terrible to lose people we love and your Dad is feeling his mortality.

It is dignified though. Your Dad is taking control in the process often known as putting one's affairs in order.
This does't mean his death is imminent, just that he is facing the inevitable with courage and decorum.

It doesn't comfort us to know this but it certainly helps the person doing it.
 
Kondoru said:
Oh, Dick, I hope that isnt so.

My Dad is 84 and still hardy...except when he gets ill, when he starts to look his age.
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Thanks, Kondoru.

I hope it isn’t either. His birthmother made it to 103. His adoptive mother (really his great aunt) got to her late 90’s. His siblings (really his cousins) also their late 90.s, so fingers crossed the longevity genes kick in for him.
 
Dick Turpin said:
Thanks, Kondoru.

I hope it isn’t either. His birthmother made it to 103. His adoptive mother (really his great aunt) got to her late 90’s. His siblings (really his cousins) also their late 90.s, so fingers crossed the longevity genes kick in for him.
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84? A mere stripling of a boy.
 
escargot said:
This must be awful for you. It's terrible to lose people we love and your Dad is feeling his mortality.

It is dignified though. Your Dad is taking control in the process often known as putting one's affairs in order.
This does't mean his death is imminent, just that he is facing the inevitable with courage and decorum.

It doesn't comfort us to know this but it certainly helps the person doing it.
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Thanks Scargy.

When he rang my mobile, I happened to be walking to my son’s school and had just entered the village churchyard. I was a bit early anyway, so I spent a few minutes sitting inside the beautiful St Nicholas’s church, having a good old think about things. I am not religious at all really but spending a few moments in the peace and quiet of that ancient church made me feel a bit better about things.
 
Dick Turpin said:
Thanks Scargy.

When he rang my mobile, I happened to be walking to my son’s school and had just entered the village churchyard. I was a bit early anyway, so I spent a few minutes sitting inside the beautiful St Nicholas’s church, having a good old think about things. I am not religious at all really but spending a few moments in the peace and quiet of that ancient church made me feel a bit better about things.
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Can totally get you with that.

There are country churchyards I sometimes sit in, maybe for a rest on a bike ride, when things are weighing on me.
It's always peaceful, though maybe hundreds of other people have been there before me, breaking their hearts. Reminds me that my problems aren't so bad.
 
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@Dick Turpin, it seems odd (to me) that this action would upset you so. Not doubting your emotional reaction, but my grandmas and now my mom (she's 86) were and are giving some of their prized possessions to family members long before they were near death.

All of them wanted to know that the people receiving things enjoy having them.

Many years ago, my mom asked me what I wanted when she died. It is a wicker planter. That is all I want. I don't wear jewellery and I don't have a big home and I don't like nicnacs. She gave it to me about 5 years ago and I really enjoy it. She is still around.

In my mind, I think maybe your dad has thought long and hard about who would appreciate his treasured collection and maybe he wants to see you enjoy it. Maybe he has some stories about when and why he started collecting. You seem close to your dad and I bet he'd love it if you asked him about his hobby. Maybe he is also thinking that you'll pass it onto your kid(s).

Sometimes giving away prized possessions is a symbol of love. I have no kids, but 10 nieces and nephews and I can possibly be considered vintage (a word a coworker decided she'd use as she is now in her fifties)I often try to think of what I can give to whom that they would love.
 
Yes, wise words.

And at least you are not like my friend, a lone daughter in a house of sons, who was willed her mothers rather desirable jewellery

...Oh, she got the box alright, right after her sisters in laws cherry picked it.
 
escargot said:
Can totally get you with that.

There are country churchyards I sometimes sit in, maybe for a rest on a bike ride, when things are weighing on me.
It's always peaceful, though maybe hundreds of other people have been there before me, breaking their hearts. Reminds me that my problems aren't so bad.
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Yes Scargy, it’s strange how ancient buildings and especially Church’s have a calming effect on the mind. The Church in question was built in 1070 and replaced an earlier wooden built Saxon chapel.

One thing I have always wondered about though, there are few headstones / gravestones within the Church grounds. I’m walking through there later on today and I’ll count, but I’d estimate only 20 to 25 headstones, although there be must hundreds, if not thousands of human remains laid to rest beneath the Church’s lawns
 
Dick Turpin said:
Yes Scargy, it’s strange how ancient buildings and especially Church’s have a calming effect on the mind. The Church in question was built in 1070 and replaced an earlier wooden built Saxon chapel.

One thing I have always wondered about though, there are few headstones / gravestones within the Church grounds. I’m walking through there later on today and I’ll count, but I’d estimate only 20 to 25 headstones, although there be must hundreds, if not thousands of human remains laid to rest beneath the Church’s lawns
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I've found this a lot. My idea is that older gravestones are still there but have fallen over and become overgrown.

If they topple and aren't stood up again, because of cost or there being no remaining family to deal with it, they might sink down a bit and then over time the vegetation will encroach.

So if someone took a long sharp object like a garden fork and jammed it into the ground they'd probably hit the back of a gravestone.
Just my idea.
 
I attended the funeral of a dear friend of mine today, a Humanist ceremony in a countryside orchard.

Only 59, taken by cancer after a long, long journey with the disease.

The turnout was great, and the love in the air was almost tangible. Truly beautiful.

My heart was broken by my late friend's Mum thanking us for attending. Imagine losing a child at 82 years of age.
 
You're never too old to learn! Vid at link.

Kerala: The granny who learnt to read and write at 104C

Kuttiyamma, a 104-year-old woman in the southern Indian state of Kerala, had always wanted to go to school. But an early marriage and a life centred on household chores put an end to that dream.

But her dream became realistic when she finally got a chance to join a government-sponsored literacy programme. At 104, she learnt how to read and write - something she had wanted to do since she was a child.

And then she made headlines by scoring 89 marks out of 100 in the official literacy test.

https://www.bbc.com/news/av/world-asia-india-59503872
 
I don't know if this is a symptom of growing old generally, or maybe just a side effect of depression. But up to my 50's I was up for any journey anywhere. Now I'm reluctant to go more than a few miles from home, and certainly can't be assed to fly anywhere.

Was just reminded of this by a mention of Changi Airport in a book - been there, spent some hours in the cocktail lounge between flights. But you'd have to pay me something in the low six figures to make me get off my ass and fly there again now.

I've also completely ceased to be impressed by skyscrapers and posh offices and the attendant functions. I'd rather be sat on my own in a dimly lit bar than that. Although sat with genuine friends is better. And if some other friends are playing live music better still. It's all I now want or ask, frankly.
 
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Why have I started to read these....

Post in thread 'Photograph Your Bookshelf' https://forums.forteana.org/index.php?threads/photograph-your-bookshelf.66198/post-2120938

Compress_20211026_130855_5700.jpg
 
Cochise said:
I don't know if this is a symptom of growing old generally, or maybe just a side effect of depression. But up to my 50's I was up for any journey anywhere. Now I'm reluctant to go more than a few miles from home, and certainly can't be assed to fly anywhere.

Was just reminded of this by a mention of Changi Airport in a book - been there, spent some hours in the cocktail lounge between flights. But you'd have to pay me something in the low six figures to make me get off my ass and fly there again now.

I've also completely ceased to be impressed by skyscrapers and posh offices and the attendant functions. I'd rather be sat on my own in a dimly lit bar than that. Although sat with genuine friends is better. And if some other friends are playing live music better still. It's all I now want or ask, frankly.
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Right now I'd give a lot to be able to be on my own in a dimly lit bar - preferably with baseball on the tv.
 
Lb8535 said:
Right now I'd give a lot to be able to be on my own in a dimly lit bar - preferably with baseball on the tv.
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Baseball would be OK for me, but not widely appreciated in Liverpool, where the TV's tend to have things like horse racing, hurling and Gaelic football. At least in the top end of town where I have friends.

I really need to sell up everything from my old life with my missus and start again in the City there - I'm getting too old to drive or ride - in my own opinion, no external pressure - and everything I want could be there within a mile or so of my door.
 
Cochise said:
Baseball would be OK for me, but not widely appreciated in Liverpool, where the TV's tend to have things like horse racing, hurling and Gaelic football. At least in the top end of town where I have friends.

I really need to sell up everything from my old life with my missus and start again in the City there - I'm getting too old to drive or ride - in my own opinion, no external pressure - and everything I want could be there within a mile or so of my door.
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I'm with you. I just moved from the country to the city. Can't say that everything is within a mile, but I grew up in NYC and although I love rural quiet, there's a positive energy being around people and traffic.
 
Lb8535 said:
I'm with you. I just moved from the country to the city. Can't say that everything is within a mile, but I grew up in NYC and although I love rural quiet, there's a positive energy being around people and traffic.
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I have a biography of Captain W. E. Johns - the man who wrote the Biggles stories and others - and he was clear that unless you were a farmer or similar, living in the country you did in middle age - when you got old move to the city. And he was a man who really loved country pursuits.

I was exaggerating about the mile or so, I guess, but Liverpool has extremely good public transport and concessions for old fogies like me. Easy to get to other interesting places within about a 20 mile radius.
 
Cochise said:
I have a biography of Captain W. E. Johns - the man who wrote the Biggles stories and others - and he was clear that unless you were a farmer or similar, living in the country you did in middle age - when you got old move to the city. And he was a man who really loved country pursuits.

I was exaggerating about the mile or so, I guess, but Liverpool has extremely good public transport and concessions for old fogies like me. Easy to get to other interesting places within about a 20 mile radius.
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Now if only I felt that I could get onto a bus and end up somewhere with people...
 
Cochise said:
Baseball would be OK for me, but not widely appreciated in Liverpool, where the TV's tend to have things like horse racing, hurling and Gaelic football. At least in the top end of town where I have friends.

I really need to sell up everything from my old life with my missus and start again in the City there - I'm getting too old to drive or ride - in my own opinion, no external pressure - and everything I want could be there within a mile or so of my door.
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At least you are thinking about where you want to be. It is always much better to make the decision yourself, than having to have others make it for you. Even if it's in the back of your mind, it's important to let people you are close to know what you want so, if needed, and you can't make that decision for yourself, they will know what you want.

My late husband had cystic fibrosis and he didn't expect to live beyond 35. He did - 50. So I have always felt way beyond my years as we talked about death openly and probably more often than most people do.

I always make comments to my youngest brother about what I want in way of funeral (I don't care as I won't be there, other than cremation). Occasionally I will refer to types of life support I don't want. People think it's morbid, but it's being realistic
 
Cochise said:
I don't know if this is a symptom of growing old generally, or maybe just a side effect of depression. But up to my 50's I was up for any journey anywhere. Now I'm reluctant to go more than a few miles from home, and certainly can't be assed to fly anywhere.

Was just reminded of this by a mention of Changi Airport in a book - been there, spent some hours in the cocktail lounge between flights. But you'd have to pay me something in the low six figures to make me get off my ass and fly there again now.

I've also completely ceased to be impressed by skyscrapers and posh offices and the attendant functions. I'd rather be sat on my own in a dimly lit bar than that. Although sat with genuine friends is better. And if some other friends are playing live music better still. It's all I now want or ask, frankly.
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I've been like that for many years now. The only thing I want is a small detached house so I don't have to listen to neighbours and I can be in peace and quiet. The only place I would go to is Israel (or the South of France -never been though), but I think it really would take some effort to even do that now.
 
I went to a Probus luncheon at a local hotel yesterday as we haven't been able to meet for ages due to regulations.
I was sitting next to a lady who came on a mobility scooter and had to be helped to her seat.
She's 92 but still as sharp as a tack and we had some interesting discussions.
She's still at home with her husband and someone comes in 3 times a week to shower her although one of her daughters works in aged care.
Any subject you chose she had some comment.
It's a bit sad to see some of the older members having mobility problems but their minds are still working well.
 
I am old and have no big regrets about anything. It is up to me, and has always been up to me, to decide my goals, decide how I would approach them, decide if I have achieved them, etc. I have achieved what I wanted in my life. I have not achieved all my goals, but almost all the important ones. I still have a sense of astonishment about this. I still work every day to be a better person. I am ready for death in the sense that, if I die today, I will have achieved my life’s purpose.

Almost all my goals were inner-directed, not outer.

My outer goals were to live such that nobody could harm me, physically, mentally, or emotionally; to have indoor plumbing; and other considerations along those lines. I think almost all middle-class persons don’t even think about these as goals because they assume they will have them, as they always have. For those of us, like me, who do not have these middle-class sensibilities, life is very different. I neither deserve nor did not deserve these simple lifestyle aspects. That I achieved them is based in a combination of my efforts and just being very lucky.

When I die, I wish to be an organ doner, then medical research cadaver, then any remains cremated and thrown away. No burial, tombstone, or ground dedicated to my remains. My life lived as I chose, and the effects I have had on others, are enough to satisfy me.

Choosing one’s goals and working towards them hold true whatever beliefs, suspicions, convictions, etc., one has about God(s) and the afterlife. I have had direct experience with the afterlife, with what I consider conclusive proof, and so I have no worries about it. That I do not know or understand all the details about the afterlife does not matter to me.

For me, it is all gravy.
 
In News this week - I have 15 minutes to walk from the train station to Morrisons after work, find the stuff on the shelves, get through the checkouts and then onto the bus station. Yesterday armed with baggage, I stepped onto the approach road outside the bus bays and misjudged the kerb. A stumble nearly lead to a pratt-fall but I recovered magnificently - with my next step the carried momentum nearly sent me sprawling but I recovered again. Third step and I went into a slow-motion tumble into the road and the groceries went everywhere. It was like my body had just given up the daily fight against gravity. Nobody laughed, nobody helped, more importantly no car ran over my head simply because they had the right of way. Picked myself up, then the shopping, then stuff from my office in my other bag which included an adjustable walking stick. Hobbled to the bus but the driver was busy phoning a GP who had left his wallet on the seat. By the time he had finished there was a lump on my knee and a graze getting hot. By sheer stroke of good fortune I had a walking stick with me.
 
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