Coming Of Age
I was a yuppie (Young
Urban Professional) and am a boomer (Baby Boomer, born between 1946 and 1964)
and I’m 59. All those things seem contradictory to me, because I feel, and
think I am, about 29.
This can be dangerous. I
drive recklessly, I act impulsively, I do things with my aging muscles they
aren’t built to do anymore, and sometimes this comes back to bite me. I’m a
sailor, an activity which requires a certain amount of brute force, and I weigh
about 135 pounds. Every summer, I haul on something, or lift something, or
climb something that completely incapacitates me all winter long. This year it
was climbing over the aft rail after diving on the propeller. My upper arms
just can’t lift those 135 pounds without damage (I don’t work out). The result
was a stiff chest for 3 weeks, but, more insidiously, it led to another bout of
my old nemesis, frozen shoulder, an exquisitely painful but non-critical
condition reserved for the newly old.
The reason I’m riffing
on age here is that I’m afraid I have to grow up now, something all boomers are
loathe to do. I have written in these pages of my experiences with the deaths
of my mother and father and mother-in-law and father-in-law, all in the course
of a few years. They’re all gone now, there’s no one else to be a caregiver to
except me. So this will be a sort of Caregiver’s Diary for our generation, one
that is going to have to learn to care for itself.
Boomers grow up when
their parents die. They’re left alone, with no one to seek approval from, no
one to compete with, no one to confide in. Boomers bury the last parent, look
around and say “What now? I’m the boss? It’s all up to me now? Oh hell, I never
wanted that”.
We were told when we
were young our youth was eternal, we would own the world; and we did. We could
do that because our parents were so SOLID. They had fought in the war, defeated
fascism and come home and not made a big thing out of it. We stood on their
shoulders and reached for the sky. Now those shoulders are gone, we have to
stand on the ground, and take stock of new realities.
There are decisions to
make that would have seemed outlandish a few years ago. I have one year to
decide whether to take my CPP early (at 60). I’m a freelancer, so retirement
isn’t in the cards for me. Like most boomers, I didn’t save like my parents,
and I’ll have to work until I’m dead to maintain my standard of living. Taking
your pension early is a good idea if you plan to live a long time, which I do,
and have the genes and the family history to achieve. You get more money in
total that way, even if it comes in smaller amounts.
Apart from the frozen
shoulder, I am in robust good health. Skinny, but healthy. I smoke and I have
clean lungs, eat salt and have low blood pressure, love fried foods and have
low cholesterol. I come from long-lived stock on both sides of my family, and I
sleep well. I’m planning on being functional into my 90s. After all, they say
the first person to live to 150 years is about 50 years old today.
So, to recap; no longer
a pretend teenager, now a grown up orphan. Poor but healthy. Soon-to-be
pensioner but full-time freelancer. Increasingly, this will describe a large
slice of the Canadian demographic. How well we take care of ourselves will
impact on how well our children can take care of themselves. If we all fail
early and clog the health system, we’ll be hated. But if we take care off
ourselves, eat well, stay active and engaged, we may be the generation that
lives forever.
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