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IGNORING AGING WON'T MAKE IT GO AWAY

 By Liz Taylor

If you want to learn how to climb mountains, you’re not likely to start with Mount Everest. If you yearn to become a great cook, your first effort probably won’t be as chef of a huge dinner party.

For all things that are complicated and worth knowing, it takes time, education, practice and patience to learn the tricks, absorb the subtleties and understand what’s really involved.

So it’s funny that most of us assume it’s easy to grow old – all you have to do is let the days roll by.

Poor health makes aging a vastly different story, and few of us prepare ahead of time. Of course it’s not fun to think about becoming sick (physically or cognitively or both). But not thinking about it – and not putting into place the systems that will protect us – won’t make it go away. It just leaves us vulnerable, with fewer options and, often, very little control over what happens.

Here are two letters along that line that I’ve received recently:

“My parents have had 60-plus years of a good marriage, but they’re now totally miserable. They’ve gone from complete independence to complete dependence in the space of five months, which of course is deeply upsetting. They could have seen it coming if they had thought about it, then prepared, but they refused. Many options they might be able to enjoy now are closed to them.”

“My husband and I didn’t think about our age when we moved into our three-story house a few years ago. It was our dream retirement home on acreage. But now, what started as mild chronic illnesses have become much more disabling and serious. We have no close neighbors, our kids live far away, and everything we need requires a car. We seem to be on our own, and it’s scary.”

A lot of luck goes into our later years. For one, whether we live long enough to get old. For two, whether we retain our health and independence if we do.

The reality is, most of us are likely to live to an old age. Centenarians now make up the fastest-growing segment of the U.S. population, and about 50 to 70 percent of us will need daily assistance someday. I expect to. And, given what medical science is doing to keep us alive, it’s probably a good idea to expect you will, too.

But luck has little to do with whether we can avoid the angst contained in these two letters. Like anything complicated, aging well takes planning. The ideal age to begin is in your late 40s or early 50s when you’re not in a crisis and can take your time – and then be mindful about your choices as time passes. But it’s not too late in your 90s. The trick is to begin this thinking process before calamity falls on your head like a ton of bricks.

Many factors go into planning for your old age, but I think these are the top five:

Identify the key people you trust and care about who you’ll have on your “care team” to watch out for your health and finances as you get older. Because these people can be hard to find, it might take a few years.
If you’re living in your “forever house,” make sure it’s set up to let you live comfortably as your needs (especially your walking ability) change.
Are there ways to get groceries and see friends if you can’t drive?
Are there resources in your community that will care for you when you need assistance?
How will you pay for your care when family and friends cannot? If you wait until you’re unhealthy to apply for long-term care insurance, it will be too late – this is one of the items to put at the top of your list to think about when you’re younger.

There are a couple of books available to help you begin your journey (Virginia Morris’ “How to Care for Aging Parents” and Joy Loverde’s “The Complete Eldercare Planner” are two I recommend).

And keep watching these pages – I’ll be writing a lot more on the topic.

What will probably surprise you is how interesting it is to plan for your aging. The more you know, the more you’ll see how interconnected the pieces are. But most surprising is the freedom that planning for your aging gives you.

None of us ever has total control over our lives, but here are things we can do while we’re healthy that will protect our interests when we’re not. Once you start, I promise, you’ll look at the world differently.


Published in The Seattle Times October 1, 2007, updated 2010.

OUR NEW ATTITUDE TOWARD AGING —

AND SOME CHANGES TO REFLECT IT

 By Liz Taylor

We’re all aging; nothing new about that. What’s new – brand sparkling new -- is a new attitude about it, and more of you are climbing on board.

Rather than passively watching the years roll by, more of you are taking control of your lives as you age, doing the things you need to do to plan for whatever might happen. I call it "aging deliberately" — the name of my newsletter. I've been preaching this mantra for years. Until now, few have paid attention. Get out the champagne: More of you "get it." We have to celebrate.

Most of us age accidentally, without planning or forethought. I hope my columns and this website help people of all ages learn how to age on purpose.

It's important work because if you live to age 65, you're likely to live well into your 80s. The fastest-growing segment of the American population is people 85 and older, and boomers can figure on living into their 90s and 100s.

Embracing our aging rather than denying it flies in the face of our society's historical fear of all things old, especially human. Years ago, when the "over the hill" greeting-card line began poking fun at people turning 50, it hit the news as “news.” Until then, celebrating people reaching the half-century mark with laughter, rather than saccharine inanities, had been unheard of.

Today, 60 is the new 40. Before we know it, 80 will be the new 60.

More changes are coming. One is our language. It's time to admit that people actually get, hmmm, old. Long embarrassed to use the "o" word, society came up with euphemisms. My least favorite is "senior." I think it's patronizing and demeaning. Do we call younger people "junior"?

I don't care what older people call themselves — many like "senior." But when I hear younger people use the term, it strikes me hard as an “us vs. them” word — you're old, and I'm not (and never expect to be). Aging is relative; there's always someone younger and older than you. So I prefer "older" as in older people or adults. Some like "elders."

But the best reason for businesses to stop using the term "senior" is that the boomers won't buy it. Forward thinking "senior centers" are already changing their names to "community centers." Immediately, the image of what goes on inside improves, doesn't it?

Another surprise is the people who are climbing aboard this train. I recently spoke to a group of 100 businesswomen, expecting the normal array of people 50 and older. I was dumbfounded to see that half the audience was under age 50 — and eager to listen. More men now attend my workshops and write me than in the previous two decades.

A third thing that needs to change: We need to take responsibility for our aging (including how we pay for our needs) and become more discerning about how we make choices. One of the worst things that ever happened to the aging field was the word "free." Government and nonprofits perpetuated the myth that older people somehow deserve free or low-cost services. The generation that came through the Depression pounced on "free" like a cat on a mouse and, though they became the wealthiest older generation in history (there are now more impoverished children than older people), the myth is alive and well, despite a spiking national deficit that will soon eviscerate all public services — while taxpayers refuse to pay more.

As a result, many public services for older people are poor quality. With laws actually prohibiting them to charge, they limp along, regardless of the ability of their customers to pay. At the same time, some entrepreneurs operate on the theory that there's "gold in old" and offer inferior goods through various subterfuges, mainly "free."

Nothing guarantees us smooth sailing as we grow older, no matter how much we plan ahead. But with more than a quarter-century tacked onto our lives that was denied previous generations, it makes sense to make the most of the time we have. It's time to age deliberately, not accidentally.

For information on how I might help you age deliberately, go to the “Services” section of this website. Good planning is the strongest defense against a difficult and unhappy old age. We can even have fun – invite some friends to participate and we’ll learn together.

Published in The Seattle Times 11/5/07, updated 2009

 FENDING OFF DENIAL ABOUT OUR

DWINDLING CAPABILITIES

 By Liz Taylor

 We can learn many lessons from watching how other people age — what they do and don't do right, their attitudes, their coping skills. We can also pick up hints about how to guide our parents as they grow older. Mainly, aging successfully — or as I say, "deliberately" — takes planning.

A few people are naturally good planners — they're the ones who stock emergency food and water in their garage for the next big quake. The rest of us know we should, but an earthquake seems remote.

Well, getting old is as certain a bet as you can make. The only alternative is to die young. Most of us, especially women, will live many years beyond what we expect. The average age of death in America is now about 80, with many living well into their 90s and 100s. The boomers should expect to live at least that long, their children even longer. The fastest-growing population is people 85 and older.

One of the enduring mysteries of my career is the phenomenon of older, fragile people failing to understand the extent of their impairment. Very frail, they say they can go up and down stairs easily, get groceries, and take a bath safely. It must be part of our fierce independence as humans to be in such deep denial, yet it leads to many preventable calamities.

Here are some recent examples:

• I took a client, age 77, to renew his driver's license. Almost unable to walk due to a stroke, he nonetheless thought he could drive. Thankfully, the Department of Licensing turned him down.

• A friend's mother insisted she was perfectly capable of cooking and caring for herself — until her bathrobe caught fire on the stove and she died.

• A 95-year-old man wrote to ask me if his daughter can force him to move, when he knows he and his 97-year-old wife are doing fine in their home of 65 years, with lots of stairs. His spidery handwriting betrays his frailty, though I'm sure he doesn't realize it, nor do most people in his situation.

Here's a common scenario: A reader is concerned about her very frail 86-year-old neighbor. She had no children, and the woman's husband died 10 years ago. Her best friend moved away. Her only family, a seldom-seen niece, lives in New York. She has no one with durable power of attorney to make decisions for her when she can no longer communicate. Who will step in to prevent this woman from falling totally apart? There's no one who has her trust or who is trustworthy to help her deal with this stage in her life. She's truly alone — as are many older people.

We live in a country that gives us the right to self-destruct. As long as we're basically competent (all these examples are), we're able to revel in our denial, ignore pleas to accept help and fall to the bottom of the aging abyss, even if it means great suffering and a miserable death.

I don't know about you, but I'd rather not, thank you. I've given up hope that those who are already old and impaired will pay attention. However, I know the rest of us who are still healthy can and should make the necessary adjustments. I'm concerned about my own future, so I've been thinking a lot about how I can prevent this kind of sad ending for me.

Here are three of the basics:

• To the extent I can, I know I have to pay for my care myself. I bought long-term care insurance a decade ago, when my age made the payments reasonable and my health guaranteed my eligibility (it might not today).

• I exercise (though I detest it) and eat healthfully, knowing that exercise and good nutrition are essential to preventing unnecessary disabilities as we age.

• Most of all, I know the importance of relying on friends and family as my "aging buddies" to help me guard against denial. I have no family, so I look to friends, and they look to me, to prevent some of the catastrophes I see happening every day. Community — building relationships with people we trust — is the most essential element of aging deliberately. I'll write more about this in the future.

For many families with older parents, knowing what to do next can quickly get lost among the guilt and the discord. Googling for answers rarely works well either. If you need expert help helping your parents figure out their next steps, go to the “Services” part of this website and review my consulting services.

Published in The Seattle Times 3/24/08, updated 2009