The upside of ageing

There are many things about ageing which range from the annoying to the inescapably awful. And let’s not forget expensive. Doctors’ and dentist’s bills proliferate, only marginally offset by the government throwing money at you when you turn 75 to keep you out of a nursing home.

In the arena of appearance there’s a cascade of age-related changes which take a lot of getting used to. Take the face, for instance. Mine is now papered with age-spots and gouged out with wrinkles. I’ve got interesting, corrugated wrinkles on one cheek as if I’d fallen asleep on a rucked-up sheet. I’ve got a positive forest of wrinkles on my top lip and of course there’s the upside-down Tigris and Euphrates of lines running from my nose to either side of my mouth. (Those who warned me about the perils of smoking stressed its damaging effect on my lungs but failed to point to the certain appearance of witch-faced wrinkles on my face.) There is also the problem I’ve mentioned before – hair on the chin. I’ll quote again the words of Germaine Greer: “You know you’re getting old when your hair migrates from your legs to your chin.

My arms are also covered with age-spots, extremely blue and prominent veins and thin skin which often shows nasty bruises where the bird has bitten me. (At least this bird’s nips are moderate in size where the cockatoo bites were enormous.)

My legs are covered with spider veins and the even uglier varicose veins. Living on the Northern Beaches means a lot of unwrapped skin but I no longer do that – I wear trousers instead. My upcoming need to wear a skirt for Nicholas’s barmitzvah means the purchase of black stockings is on the shopping horizon.

Thinning hair is an ageing problem requiring attention. Some time ago I bought a gorgeous wig of white hair – you can see it in the picture which accompanies this blog – which I suspect I may have to wear regularly down the track. I bought it because I really wanted white hair and my hair was spending too long being pepper-and-salt. Now I fear I may have to deploy it for other reasons.

Ageing plays havoc with your joints and other bits of you. I’ve already had back surgery, but I suspect my knees and hips might have to play catch-up. Mind you, much of the ominous creaking and hurting of knees and hips has probably a lot to do with my overweight torso bearing down on my joints. And about that “overweight” state. Some elderly people like my mother become very thin as they age. Others become seriously plump; in my case that’s fat, really. Plump is far too coy.

But this blog is going to talk about the upside, not the downside, of ageing. And there is definitely an upside.

Let’s start with the upside of forgetting things. I’m sure you think that forgetting is, generally speaking, a bad thing but I don’t see it that way. For example, I’ll never run out of books to read as it’s fairly certain I’ll forget books I’ve already read and happily read them again. This is particularly useful with non-fiction.

I never again have to worry that I’ve forgotten someone’s name. I just call everyone darling, or occasionally dear. You have no idea how this de-stresses social interaction. I bounce around in slightly larger-than-life style and really don’t worry about what I’m forgetting because I can parlay my ignorance into amusement shared by all parties.

Empowered ageing – and I know not everyone is empowered – usually means you can charm people in authority and smooth over any rough edges in your dealing with Centrelink or Service NSW or your insurance company or your bank …

I do recognise that I am empowered by virtue of my middle-class upbringing, education, work experiences and positions serving numerous boards and committees. And I do know that many older people find they have become invisible or talked down to. I suppose I’m just suggesting that there’s an upside to ageing to match its downsides.

There are even good things about ageing when it comes to one’s appearance. The migration of hair from leg to chin means, obviously, that the old chore of shaving one’s legs is no longer necessary. Neither is the waxing of other parts of one’s anatomy.

You could, like the amazing Iris Apfel, go completely over the top in layering jewellery of multi colours round neck and wrists and probably make people smile instead of mock.

You can offer your services to your grandchildren’s schools and be delightedly welcomed whether it’s to the canteen or the library. In fact you can volunteer anywhere without being viewed suspiciously.

Generally speaking, people one deals with are kindly and help out where they can. They also take your goo-ing over their babies or toddlers pleasantly.

Every now and again you can put your foot down with your family without creating a war, even though occasionally you get the harmony wrong with the grandchildren. I think they all still like me although grandma is really boring when it comes to their manners. (In fact, grandma is quite generally boring as she can’t – or won’t -- engage physically with the brood.)

I’m sure there are many more examples of the upside of ageing but grandma is tired now and has to stop. You, my dear readers, have to do your part and let me know what you think are examples.

 

Quote of the week from Chambers Dictionary of Modern Quotations:

British novelist Howard Spring: “The author of this novel and all the characters mentioned in it are completely fictitious. There is no such city as Manchester.”