Beyond the golden years

My sisters and I are all three in our 80s. We communicate frequently and see one another as often as possible. We don’t live in the same community, so every time we’re able to get together, we marvel at our good fortune that we still have one another at this advanced age. We take a picture of the three of us nearly every time.

We talk about how different it now feels to be at this stage in our lives and we’re thankful our minds are good so we can enjoy one another. If we count up all the ailments we’ve had or still have, all the surgeries and health episodes we’ve experienced, it seems like a lot; yet we are blessed to have lived long lives of relatively good health.

It took a while to adjust to the idea that we have grown old. We were all active throughout our lives with careers, children and grandchildren. We worked hard, never hired anyone to clean our house or do our yard work, even while working outside the home. We were careful not to waste anything, careful about spending money and really good at finding bargains. It’s not surprising; we were raised by parents who lived through the Great Depression.

We’re at different stages now. My younger sister lives independently in Des Moines, became a widow two years ago and is active in her church and volunteer work. My older sister has some health issues but fortunately lives with her caring husband. They look after one another and concentrate on remaining as active as possible.

I live in the home of my daughter and granddaughter, along with a large rescue dog and a pug. During the school year, my granddaughter attends ICON, a performing arts conservatory in Iowa City. She and her mom live in an apartment there, but are home every two or three weekends and during the holidays and summer (accompanied always by my granddaughter’s two cats).

Four years ago, I developed a spinal condition requiring surgery that forced me to give up my own two-level home and prevents me from driving, but I am fortunate to still be fairly independent.

My sisters and I are adjusting to this stage in life in ways that fit each of us best. We were familiar with aging as our dad had poor health in his later years, and our mom lived to be 90. As the daughter who lived nearby, I naturally looked after my parents as they aged, and was also conservator for my dad’s elderly sister. It’s similar with my sisters and me now that we are elderly; our children who live nearby have assumed more responsibility in support of us.

All of our kids want to help us as we age, so those who worry more and express feelings of guilt and stress are the ones who can’t help as much because they live farther away.

I tell my son not to fret because he lives four hours away in Dubuque, but he’s a worrier. He insisted on installing Alexa for me in three rooms of the house. I tell my daughter in Iowa City not to worry because she is three hours away. My daughter who lives and works locally is here when I need her. It’s natural that children who don’t move away are going to be called upon. I was that child when my parents needed support.

My younger sister has a son in Arizona and one in Minnesota, but her daughter lives near her in Des Moines. My older sister who lives with her husband has a daughter and a son living in the Des Moines area.

Fortunately, communication among all of us is easy and satisfying. My three kids have worked out among themselves to make sure someone is checking in with me at different times during the day. I depend on my local daughter when needed for doctor visits, grocery shopping and picking up prescriptions at the pharmacy. When my other daughter is home on weekends and here for the summer, she takes over. My son visits several times a year.

Families vary, but one thing is for certain, almost everyone’s parents grow old. Families deal with it in ways that fit their circumstances the best. Kind of like we deal with everything else in life.