Posted tagged ‘Old age’
January 12, 2020
WORDS FROM W.W. January 12, 2020
Last week I was at our local YMCA in the morning to work up a sweat. I climbed the stairs to the balcony track that circles above the gym. Thirteen laps to a mile and I try to do a mile or two. A runner can only do so many laps before he starts leaning towards the inside railing!
As usual, I stretched and watched the half dozen walkers and runners making their circuits. One young man in his twenties was setting a good pace. Another man, looking like he was hovering around 75 and on the edge of death, plodded along. Down below several octogenarians played pickleball at a snoozing pace. When I entered the track the man who looked like he had limited life expectancy was about 20 yards in front of me.
And then five laps later I realized he was still 20 yards in front of me! It was a “Come to Jesus moment” for me, a slap on both of my cheeks. I WAS GOING THE SAME SPEED, or should I say, lack of speed. The man in front of me, who probably had checked to see where the nearest AED device was located, was running at the same pace as me. No wait! He was actually getting further ahead of me!
I cursed the extra piece of pecan pie I had consumed the night before, thought about the salad I would now eat for lunch…and dinner, and considered if my will was up to date.
Signs that I’m heading towards a rocking chair and a blanket are coming more frequently. Each night when Carol and I sit to watch a TV show I grab a blanket to warm up my freezing hands and feet. Our couch now has more blankets on it than pillows. Actually, it also has more blankets than seating capacity!
When the TV show ends at about 8:30, Carol asks me if I want to watch another show. My answer to that question usually includes a look at the time. If the minute hand has ended its downward journey and is heading back up towards the top of the hour the chances are I’ll pass on watching another TV episode. That’s another sign that age is crowding in with me.
This week I bought a new nose and ear hair trimmer. As the hair on the top of my head decreases the amount of hair protruding out of my nostrils and ears seems to be increasing. It’s like I accidentally put a treatment of Miracle-Gro on them!
On the bright side it seems that people ask what my opinion is more often than they used to. They ask me if I have any suggestions. Sometimes I do and sometimes I admit my lack of wisdom on the situation.
I read more, become impatient quicker, and eat more yogurt. I think about the things I used to do: jumping and touching the basketball rim back in college, running the Pike’s Peak Ascent race (Otherwise known by my wife as “The Death Race!), and sleeping through the night without having to get up and urinating. I sigh deeply and mutter to myself “Those were the days!”
And yet in my longing to return to “what was” I realize I wouldn’t have what I now have: four grandkids, the same spouse for 40+ years, an abundance of friends and acquaintances. The arrival of Medicare eligibility coincides with the realization of how blessed I have been and still am.
Just as I keep the shrubs trimmed growing out of my facial areas, I now keep the areas of my interest and involvement trimmed to where I want to focus my time and energies. With that comes the acceptance of the fact that I don’t need to catch the old guy in front of me on the YMCA track, and that it’s okay to throw a blanket on top of me. Old guys don’t have to worry about being called wimps, they simply need to hope that they’re seen as being wise.
Categories: children, coaching, Death, Freedom, Grace, Grandchildren, Humor, marriage, Parenting, Story, Uncategorized
Tags: blankets, cold feet, ear and nose trimmer, medicare, nostril hair, Old age, pickleball, senior adults, senior citizens, senior folk, senior living, Seniors, slow pace, slowing down, wisdom
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December 31, 2019
WORDS FROM W.W. December 31, 2019
I was never picked first, never. Even in the progression of my siblings I was last. I was always afraid to ask if I was an afterthought, since Mom and Dad had my brother and then my sister. The tables seemed balanced…and then Billy Dean Wolfe came into the world. When you’re third in line you always wonder about things like that. Did my parents slip up one night and I was their surprise…or did they think my brother and sister were so cute why not try for another cutie? Did my mom use her infamous line on Dad, “Kiss me, slobber lips! I can swim!” and things went from there or I was a part of their master plan?
I was last, the last of the Wolfe’s. And guess what? Wolfe comes at the end of the alphabet, unless there’s a Young or a Zipp behind you. Just about every class I was in the teachers would arrange the students alphabetically. In U.S. History class I was even behind another Wolfe, Betsy Wolfe. “B-i” came after “B-e”!
My fourth grade teacher showed some compassion and had me move to the front of the class, not because she thought its was unfair that I always had to sit in the back, but rather because she noticed my squinting to see the chalkboard up front. I needed glasses. Being vision deficient qualified me for advancement from the end to the beginning.
My mom was obsessed with “the last.” The last little bite of food in the casserole dish. I can’t tell you how many times she hovered the broccoli cheese casserole by my shoulder and said, “Bill, you want this last little bite?” Telling her that I didn’t was the wrong answer. It led to a series of questions, like a car dealer trying to sell my dad a Ford (Our family drove Chryslers and Buicks!). My dad’s resistance was solid. Not so much though with my holding off the last bit of broccoli cheese casserole that Mom would inch ever closer to my plate as she tilted it. When she went to her patented “Just enough to dirty the dishwater!” line, I surrendered.
I think about last things a lot these days. I’m getting closer to the end of my journey. Carol thinks I’ll live to be 105 and be featured in the local newspaper as I shovel a spoonful of pureed veggies into my mouth, but I don’t know! This past year more of my friends arrived at the end of their lives. For a few death was the last thing on their minds as they started a new day, but accidents and heart attacks put a dent into the daily agendas.
I think more and more about what are the last words I want to say to people and how I end the journey. What last acts of kindness would I want to make priorities? What are the last things of my life that I need to resolve and be able to let go of? You know, what are the hurts that need healing and the wounds I’ve caused that need forgiveness?
And what if, like the broccoli cheese casserole, I’m life-stuffed and God says to me “Just a little bit left! Can you live a little bit longer for me? I’ve got just enough life here to dirty the dish water!”
If that happens, my mom would have a big smile on her face and, though theologically I don’t believe it, I wouldn’t be able to get out of my mind the idea that Mom put the Almighty up to convincing me to the last little bite of living longer.
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Death, Grace, Humor, Jesus, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: broccoli cheese casserole, final days, last acts of kindness, last child, last days, last in line, last thoughts, last words, Old age, pureed food
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July 6, 2019
WORDS FROM W.W. July 6, 2019
Every day one of our local TV stations has a paid 30 minute program where an auditorium full of smiling women listen to a presentation about beauty products and wonder creams. One of the products miraculously makes wrinkles disappear.
We love to stay looking young…even when we aren’t really even close to be young. There are, however, certain signs of a person’s advancing age that can not be solved with facial creams and hair pieces.
For me, I am horrified by the bushels of hair that grow like weeds out of my ears and nostrils. I trim them, but they’re like dandelions; pull one and two more sprout up! I can’t hide it. My dad didn’t have that problem. Of course, he had several rounds of radiation for skin cancers on his ears, so he had about half of his ear lobes missing.
Another sign of advancing age that is my giveaway happens when I sit down or stand up. The “moan and groan” audible sounds occur without fail. I’ll be kneeling in front of my basketball team’s bench and an intense battle is happening on the court. I go to stand up to argue a call and the first sound out of my mouth is “Ohhhh” in a pained core of way! The official sympathizes with my plight.
I’ll go to sit down in my seat on the plane and the same sound accompanies my connection with the seat. I don’t remember making those sounds ten years ago.
I know what you’re thinking. Not remembering things is also a sign! I may not remember, but I’m perceptive enough to figure out where you were going with that thought.
You may be right, however, in your connecting memory with age. A couple of days ago I was talking to someone about the Big Red Machine of the mid-70’s. I can remember the potent lineup of that baseball team…Bench, Perez, Morgan, Concepcion…but I couldn’t remember the new password I chose two days ago for a certain web site. What’s up with that?
This may be too much information, but my morning trips to the bathroom are also a sign of my times. In fact…I’ve got to pause for a moment right here and…
I’m back! Last week I was playing basketball with some thirty-somethings and I did a cross-over dribble with the intent of heading to the basket. The young man guarding me, who is not that quick, easily blocked my way and then when I did a step-back to shoot he swatted my shot away. He’s maybe 5’11”! It was a sign that any illusions I might have had about still being quick were squashed and stomped upon. (To my credit, I did score on him a minute later with a left-handed half-hook shot! Boom, Baby!)
On the other side of the age indicator fence, I’ve learned how to fake it to make people think I’m kinda’ cool and young. Mainly, if the subject being talked about is totally foreign to me I’ve learned how to nod and make other facial expressions that cause me to look knowledgeable. For instance, I am totally clueless about Fortnite. My four year old granddaughter knows more about it and she’s never played or seen it! But I can make people think I am a Fortnite pro without saying a word. I just need to make faces that give a glimmer of intelligence. It’s an age distraction!
I’d better close now because it’s getting close to the time for another of my age signs…my afternoon nap! It’s what I look forward to shortly after I arise in the morning!
Categories: children, coaching, Death, Humor, Parenting, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: age, age indictors, age spots, Big Red Machine, ear hair, facial cream, Fortnite, moans and groans, Old age, passwords, senior citizens, signs of age, wrinkles
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June 9, 2019
WORDS FROM W.W. June 8, 2019
Dear Body,
You were asked to do more today than you are accustomed to. After all, climbing scaffolding and ladders, doing demolition work on a deck, and painting that required you to twist more times than Chubby Checker are things that you have not been asked to participate in.
But since you’re hanging around with five other men several years younger than you…and you’re on a mission work trip with them to British Columbia…and you’re the one who organized it then you felt the obligation…dare I say the pressure…to go beyond!
You’ll be feeling the effects tomorrow, but at least tomorrow is Sunday so you can be an example to the others and REST!
Don’t worry! Aleve is in the suitcase. There’s more than one that have your name on them.
Remember that you’re 65! Not 25, not even a number that begins with 5. The reason you feel the way you do is because you’re an old body that still lives under the illusion that you’re young. You know, jumping out of the gym, running like lightning, showing agility.
Guess what? Those days have passed and they aren’t coming back.
Back. There’s another sore point, or should I say sore area. Lower back and upper back. They’re doing a tug-of-war to determine who hurts more.
Don’t worry! In less than an hour you can tell the guys that you’re going to go to your room and…read! You don’t have to tell them how much you’re going to read, just that you’re going to read. One paragraph in and you can feel free to drift off and dream about Biofreeze and full body massages.
Here’s the thing. You’re doing what you have wanted to do: Be used by God. That’s what you did today. You were used by God to help out dear people who run a camp for children who need some rays of hope in their lives.
So it’s okay to hurt, to groan, and to feel your age. God thinks you’re pretty special…and old.
Categories: children, Christianity, coaching, Community, Freedom, Humor, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: aches and pains, Aleve, Chubby Checker, feeling old, health, Old age, physical, physical healthy, volunteering
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January 16, 2019
WORDS FROM W.W. January 16, 2019
I ventured to see my Physician’s Assistant this morning about my back muscle spasms. Two months ago when I saw P.A. Mark Smith for my annual physical he said I was doing well, looked healthy, and all my vital signs and blood tests were great!
And then he told me that I’m at an age where the impact sports and activities need to be lessened and it would be wise to switch to exercise activities like swimming, stationary bike, tiddilywinks, bridge, etc. (Okay! I paraphrased the last two!)
Last Wednesday I played early morning basketball at the YMCA, and by Thursday the spasms had arrived. Soooo….I saw Mark Smith again this morning. He looked at me and my chart.
“So, Bill, you were playing basketball and now have muscle spasms in your lower back?” He gave me the parental look!
“Yes, Mark!” I said, leaning towards repentance.
He talked about treatment and then took on his fatherly expression, even though he’s the age of my son. “We talked about steering away from impact activities, didn’t we?”
“Yes!!!!”
“You need to work on your core strength, as opposed to activities where you’re doing a lot of twisting and turning. At your age there’s some things that are going to adversely affect you physically.”
In other words, someone who is getting daily advertisements in the mail about his approaching entry into Medicare may be too old to hoop it up! Back in college I could touch the rim! Now I’m being told I’m too old to touch a basketball!
But I’m too young for other things, like senior water aerobics, bridge, and scrapbooking! I’m too old to hoop it up with the high school varsity, although I can dominate the freshmen and sophomores (I think!). I’m too old to run the Pike’s Peak Ascent anymore, but I’m too young to join a walking club.
I’m a ‘tweener’! Too sophisticated for rotary dial telephones, but too dumb for my own smart phone! It’s an uncomfortable age because you realize that most of your life is now in the rearview mirror and the rest of your life has a degree of uncertainty about it.
Too old, too young! Been there, done that! And not sure I’m ready for that! I’m ready for the Icy Hot muscle ointment, but not quite ready to be covered up with a blanket!
Maybe I’ll start playing pickleball!
Categories: children, coaching, Death, Humor, Parenting, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: back spasms, core strength, exercise, Growing old, impact activities, medicare, muscle spasms, Old age, pickleball, senior adults, senior citizens, senior folk, senior living, sore muscles, too old, too young
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December 4, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. December 5, 2018
The secret is out! Five months from today I turn 65! Everybody and their mom seems to know about it. Not a day goes by, except Sunday, where my mailbox is void of at least one reminder that my Big Day is coming!
I snickered for a while at the amount of mail my wife received with reminders that she was approaching 65. That was back in June and July (Her milestone happens this Saturday!) But I’m past the snickering and chuckling as the daily trip to the mailbox has me finding someone else who has discovered what happens to me on May 5.
It’s a little disconcerting to know how many insurance companies and agents have this personal information. I’m guessing that if there is money to be made they will find out. I wish other information that I long for certain people to know was as widely known. Like…someone contacting me about when Blue Bell ice cream is going to go on sale…at least two weeks from now! that way I can better plan out my daily consumption rate instead of eating a half-gallon all at once! That would be useful info for me.
Or…even more vital…when my favorite stool at Starbucks isn’t occupied! Recently there’s been a guy who has already taken it by the time I arrive early in the morning. Yesterday I asked one of the baristas to notice when his arrival time is so I can beat him to the spot. This morning I arrived at 7:08. The barista told me he got here at 6:58. It would be great to find out seat availability so I don’t have to adjust! I don’t sound bitter, do I?
All the advance information about turning 65 has me a bit concerned. Kind of like getting information from different colleges during my senior year of high school. Each school of higher education tried to make you believe it was a slice of heaven, but then I arrived in the fall of 1972 and found out freshmen English Composition was closer to hell!
All this advance stuff about Medicare has me a bit nervous. Will it be more like a birthday celebration dinner or a scheduled colonoscopy?
Categories: children, Death, Freedom, Humor, Parenting, Story, Uncategorized
Tags: 65 years old, birthdays, Growing old, health insurance, insurance company, mail, medical insurance, medicare, Old age, turning 65
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November 22, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. November 22, 2018
People often say that I don’t look like I’m just six months away from being eligible for Medicare. That’s nice to hear. After all, not too many of us get up in the morning with the goal of looking OLDER than we are!
Recently, however, I’m encountered a few situations where I realize I AM OLD! The most recent experience happened this morning when I opened up the newspaper, stuffed like a turkey with Black Friday store advertisements. I sorted through most of them and came to the ad from Best Buy.
This is the old part! You know you are old when you don’t know what half of the gadgets in the 16 page ad actually do. I recognized the washer and dryer, the frig, and a few of the vacuum cleaners, but other devices had me as clueless as I was in trigonometry class!
The good news in all of that is that if I don’t know what it is…I don’t yet know that I’m suppose to need it!
On to a different “old” subject”! About a week ago I bought new ear phones to listen to my Lawrence Welk music with. They are wireless- another term that mystifies me- and I opened up the instructions. THERE WERE NO WORDS! A sketched finger pointed to different buttons and tried to communicate the purpose of that button with the use of a picture.
GIVE ME SOME WORDS TO READ! I’m guessing it was a sign of how our culture doesn’t like to read anymore. We now seem to be a society that likes to communicate by using a finger!
In the Walmart Black Friday ad there was a whole page devoted to video games that shoot ‘em up, blow ‘em up, and run ‘em over. One tiny picture at the bottom of the next page advertised three books for toddlers. That was as close to a library as Walmart got!
So I’m feeling old. We bought a new vehicle almost two years ago, but I don’t know how to use half the fancy stuff on itl…and it has a thick manual with WORDS! The steering wheel has abbreviations instead of the whole word. Give me the letters “MN” and I know the state it’s referring to is Minnesota. Put those letters on my steering wheel and I haven’t a clue!
I’m just really, really old! Lord, have mercy! I’m turning into my Kentucky grandfather, Papaw Helton! Before I know it I’ll be sipping buttermilk at supper and wearing suspenders that hold my pants up all the way to my nipples!
Categories: children, Community, Death, Grandchildren, Humor, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: Best Buy, Black Friday, Black Friday ads, ear buds, gadgets, high-tech, instruction manuals, Lawrence Welk, library, literary works, Old age, video games, wireless
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October 24, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. October 24, 2018
When I arrived at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio in September of 1972 I was greeted with the freedom to make my own choices. That’s like being a contestant of “Let’s Make A Deal!” So many boxes to open and curtains to choose! So many new options!
My class schedule had me attending 8:00 and 9:00 classes Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Let me rephrase that! I could CHOOSE to attend 8:00 and 9:00 classes! As the fall term proceeded I CHOSE to attend less and less as I slept in to 9:00, 9:30, 10:00, 10:30. There were even a few days when I slept in got up in time to eat lunch.
Needless to say, my academic performance that first term was something less than stellar!
Perhaps you remember the days when you moaned and groaned when you had to get out of bed before 8:00!
Things change! Now that I’m 64 and 1/2, sleeping in has become irrelevant. I remember it being in the distant past in the same breath as my first car, a 1974 AMC Gremlin.
Today I was the assigned coach for an early morning shoot-around at high school for our basketball team. The shoot-around begins at 6:50. I did not need an alarm clock to wake up. At 5:30 my eyes were open and staring at the ceiling. My body now tells me when 5:30 arrives every morning. Actually, it also tells me when it’s about 2 A.M. as I make my nightly pit stop! As someone with minimal vocabulary but massive wisdom once said, “It is what it is!” For me “it is” every night!
Carol now knows if I’m not feeling well…like, deathly sick with chills and no energy. That’s when I’m still in bed and the clock is trudging upwards past 6:30.
On the other end of the day I now find it hard to stay up past 10:00. I went to the Denver Nuggets game last Saturday night with three young adult guys. The game didn’t get over until 10:00. They ribbed me all the way home saying things like, “It’s about two hours past your bedtime, isn’t it?” and “You should bring a pillow and blanket with you next time!”
They’re more right than wrong! When Carol and I think about going to a movie we think about the late afternoon feature, because the 7:00 showing doesn’t get out until…like 9:00!
Isn’t it strange? When we were young we’d long to stay up late and then sleep in. Now that I’m almost to Medicare age I go to bed about the time the local news comes on and get up with Al Roker.
To wear out the saying, “it is what it is!”
Categories: children, coaching, Community, Freedom, Humor, marriage, Parenting, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: alarm clocks, AMC Gremlin, early mornings, effects of old age, getting up early, going to bed early, growing older, morning classes, mornings, Old age, sleeping in, staying up late
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June 2, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. June 2, 2018
My quest to run 200 miles this summer began a week and a half ago. I’m 30 miles into it, which sounds impressive until you realize there’s still 170 miles in front of me. Translated that means I’ll be running all the way to New Mexico!
I’m getting my wind back after it had taken a hiatus for about 14 years. In the summer of 2004 I trained and ran the Pike’s Peak Ascent, a 13.2 mile race for lunatics, during which the runners make an 8,000 foot elevation climb after starting at 6,000 feet. After I ran the Ascent for a second time I put the running shoes in the closet…the deepest parts of the closet!
Now I’m back at it…slowly! I was talking to a close friend of mine last night and he asked me whether I shuffle or stride when I run?
Good question! In my mind I’m striding out, but it’s the same mind that envisions me slam dunking a basketball and waking up in the morning with no aches or pains!
In reality I’m probably between a stride and a shuffle…between what I was and what I will be! My swiftness is becoming a more distant hazy spot in my past, replaced by the slow motion of the present.
It is a picture of life. I’m like the Israelites between Egypt and the Promised Land. I’m between the here and the there. When I have my annual physical exam each fall my doctor often uses the phrase “You are no longer…” to remind me I’m heading towards the point where I’ll be an old man shuffling. He says it kindly and with a grin, but each of us know the truth of life’s withering moments.
There are good things about life’s aging.
Carol and I have the Senior Pass to the National Parks now. We can get in any one of them free.
I can drop off to sleep after reading one page in any book…or sooner!
People think I’m wise since I’m almost a shuffler!
Many, many good things about the golden years!
For now, however, I’m more of a “striffler”, a hybrid between striding and shuffling. Perhaps I’ll get my second wind. The question is whether I’ll be able to catch it?
Categories: Bible, children, coaching, Death, Humor, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: Aging, between here and there, jogging, long distance, Old age, Pike's Peak Ascent, quest, Running, running 200 miles, running stride, shuffling my feet, slow run, stride, swift feet
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May 21, 2017
WORDS FROM W.W. May 21, 2017
My dad turns 89 on June 18! Unfortunately, on May 18 he was a patient at St. Mary’s Hospital in Huntington, West Virginia! He will continue to be there for two or three more days as he deals with a heart situation and limited strength.
And I am five states and two time zones away…in Colorado! My sister, nominated by me for sainthood, lives close by and keeps watch over Pops. I am so thankful for her tireless efforts to make sure he is okay. She has her own younger family generations to keep watch over, including seven grandkids, but she always finds the time to check in on Dad.
The assuredness of her on-site supervision gives me some degree of peace, but not totally. I’m experiencing what so many adult children are going through…living a long distance from their elderly parents. Some families move mom or dad, or both, close to where they live. Sometimes that works, but often it’s the worst solution. To move Mom or Dad away from where their peers live is usually emotionally and socially damaging.
Having my sister two miles away from Dad, and my brother about a three hour drive away, means I don’t have to worry about moving Dad to high-elevation Colorado. That thankful solution, however, does not eliminate the sense of helplessness. Carol and I will be flying back to Ohio in just about three weeks- being there for his 89th!- but each day of separation from my father includes an ongoing element of emotional anxiety. A question wraps itself around my mind: Is he okay today?
There was a time when we wanted distance from our parents. They were impeding our independence. They would ask us embarrassing questions in front of our friends, like “When are you going to be home?” We didn’t want to hear any more of their questions. In our opinion, they didn’t know anything! They were old-fashioned and not understanding of the times. Many of us went through that phase. We wanted to go away to college…so they wouldn’t see some of the things we wanted to do!
But then we hit the mid-twenties and had kids! And suddenly we had the questions and we needed them for answers as we entered the new territory of parenthood. The public library had books on parenting, but nothing came even close to the wisdom of our parents. They counseled us through those “life lab” situations.
Like a light switch we’ve flipped back and forth with our parents as life circumstances have changed, from dependent to independent to dependent to independent…
Perhaps at this time in my dad’s life, in a strange way, I’m even more dependent on him. He is the solution to my helplessness. My emotional wellness is dependent on knowing he is okay and cared for. That comes from the memories of experiences. Dad taught me how to ride a bicycle and a few years later how to drive. He taught me how to mow the lawn and how to tie a neck tie. He became my mom’s caregiver as she struggled with health problems. He modeled a walk with Christ, taught Sunday School for years and was, and is, a deacon.
It does something to you when you go to the cemetery with one of your parents, see where the other parent has already been laid to rest, and see the name of the one still standing beside you already on the grave marker. It hits you deep in your soul that these days with him are precious and few in number.
In reflection, I am thankful for these feelings I have of helplessness. They are the dividends of relational investment.
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Grandchildren, love, marriage, Parenting, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: Aging, aging parents, caring for our parents, cemetery, dying, elderly, elderly parents, grave markers, Growing old, hospitals, Huntington, Old age, senior adults, St. Mary's Hospital
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Words from WW Blog 