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Aging is a word we dislike because we can’t escape it. When I took “aging” to the thesaurus, it gave me “sweetening and mellowing.” Gag me with a fork. “Near prime” was more like being prepared for the dinner table. “Seasoning” took me to spices. Maybe that was closer, being definitely more salty and peppery than I once was. “Ripening” brought to mind a melon in season. “Perfecting” was more like work ahead, probably accurate but I wasn’t going there either. “Maturing” took me to growing and spreading—waaay too true.
It’s better to equate aging with something more palatable like, “The Age of Reinvention.” But sometimes “reinvention” backfires, too. Case in point: if you live long enough, your hair becomes white enough, you’re stooped enough, or you smear your lipstick, it is guaranteed that to the waitress who is 205 years younger than you are, you will be reinvented as “Sweetie.”
In my opinion, humans are created to live eight life stages.
First Stage: We start out as babies. We are pretty much blobs who almost immediately cry for life-giving sustenance and then poop. It’s OK to say that because it is au natural, and none of us escapes that phase.
Second Stage: We become children, little people who are a combination of Mom and Dad and all the generations before them. That can be either good or bad depending on which side of the family we resemble.
Stage Three: Teenage people are another ball of wax. Now as I remember it, I was a perfect teenager but according to the adventures my friends tell at 55-year-plus high school reunions, I either missed a whole bunch or they are stretching their stories big time. As you continue through these years, you survive acne and dating and hopefully meet the love of your life.
Stage Four: Young, married and in love, with your head firmly aligned with the clouds. It is that precious time when your parents no longer tell you what to do (Now a mate does it!) but then it becomes agonizingly clear that they aren’t giving you an allowance or paying your rent either. A downside comes with everything.
OK, now you become parents. Stage Five: Rather unexpectedly it seems, you have one (or more) of those blobs that are totally depending on you for life-giving sustenance, and immediately thereafter, pooping. You wished you could remember all the advice your parents gave you but you didn’t listen and now you try to get your kids to listen as they progress through little people, teenagers and young marrieds. Your parents smile knowingly as your children ignore you much as you ignored them.
Ah, but next comes the best, Stage Six: Grandparenthood (Getting even). Hopefully you can afford to buy an RV and travel. If you planned carefully enough, your kids will have long, level driveways in the Northeast, Southeast, Northwest and Southwest, so you can take turns parking your RV in their neighborhoods. It is not only a privilege to spoil those grandchildren but your sworn duty. When they begin to drive you crazy, too, it is time to angle south for a sunny beachside winter in your cozy 45-foot quadruple slideout house on wheels.
Stage Seven: I especially notice aging in memory chip deterioration. This can be interesting, depending on your sense of humor. Unfortunately, all the younger generations suddenly become aware that you can’t remember anything current, but you can give them “Laugh In” jokes word for word. You are fortunate if you still have your loving mate because two half brains can make one reasonably good one. With a little luck, what one doesn’t remember, the other can, such as when you walk into another room and wonder why you went there, or look for something that is right in front of you, only you forget what it is that you were hunting.
At first, before anyone realizes your mind is fading, you justify actions like putting your purse in the freezer or the eggs in the breadbox. This means claiming (with crossed fingers), “I did that because I was trying to keep that chocolate bar from melting” or “I was planning on making French toast for breakfast.” Eye rolling is an exercise for the young, and you will notice they do it a lot, blatantly. The generations that teethed on meteoric technology changes also do that when you ask, “What is tweeting anyway?”
I felt rather prestigious receiving my Golden Age Pass, an official “senior citizen” badge. When I was a high school senior, I was surrounded with four big brothers and strict parents. I could only get into trouble if I tried really, really hard. Mostly, it wasn’t worth the effort. The difference, I’ve discovered, between a teenage senior and a senior senior is that now I can get into trouble without trying, and except for an occasional reprimanding letter from my children after the fact, nobody cares!
This is the age and stage when overly mature spines dictate what positions you assume. Recently I collected trash from the wastebaskets and while I was already stooped over, turned on the electric heater, rearranged the bottom shelf, painted the baseboards and repaired the cupboard. As I straightened, I turned on the computer, put my “To Do” basket within reach, and stretched to open the drapes and tie them.
Are we sweetening, mellowing, perfecting or ripening? Who knows? I just know we cannot stop maturing or being labeled, but we can try to keep the second half of Stage One from returning so quickly by staying as active as possible. So, let loose while you can and surprise yourself once in a while by doing something completely outlandish (Other than putting your purse in the freezer). By the way, if we walk the first seven stages on the right path, the Stage Eight bonus will be a nice surprise: “It’s so beautiful up here.” God Bless.
Autographed copies of 2009 fourth edition RVing Alaska and Canada ($19.95) and Adventures with the Silver Gypsy ($14.95) are available through Amazon.com. Follow Sharlene Minshall’s blog, “The Silver Gypsy,” at rvlife.com.
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