My mother turned sixty last year, and endured a rough patch of health issues. Since her thirties, she's been struggling with a heart condition--palpitations that have sent her to the ER on countless occasions. Over the last year, she experienced a mysterious sore throat that lasted several months, a staph infection, sore hip, sore knee, sore hand, and various other questionable maladies. It seemed every time we talked on the phone, she was headed to a doctor's appointment or awaiting test results.
She was visiting me recently (we live on opposite coasts, her on the east and me on the west). One evening, I caught myself complaining about my own conditions--primarily, my interstitial cystitis. I will turn thirty-six this month, which means that my thirties are half over. In mid-sentence, I said to my mother, "I better stop. I'm never going to age gracefully if I keep complaining like this."
The next day, my mother was not her usual cheerful self. Perhaps the grind of caring for my seven-year-old during her visit had finally worn her down. We were on our way to see the movie Mirror, Mirror , a spin-off of Snow White, the age-old tale about a stepmother whose vanity becomes the bane of her existence. As my mother climbed into the car, she suddenly spouted, "Growing old is not pleasant, and it is not fun."
That got me thinking: Is there a way to set the stage, to make aging pleasant and fun? Of course, all kinds of books, articles and blogs provide advice about aging. But the attitude is the most important. I wondered, what if I start now, to cultivate a positive attitude of acceptance and tolerance? Is it possible to plant the seed now so that later on, my coping skills are better? Do I want to find myself in the backseat of a car with my granddaughter, yelling about how awful it is to grow old? Is that the kind of attitude I want to model for my daughter?
I am a single mother, and the most prominent female role model in my daughter's life. It would benefit all of us if I work on accepting myself as I am, and as I become, as time pitter patters along, etching lines of grace and wisdom upon my hopeful face.
