I can already feel the wanderlust taking over, which is not altogether a good thing. I said I was going to leave my fate up to the fates, but this wanderlust is starting to dictate my future. For example, I talked to a woman today who is looking for someone to rent a room from her elderly mother, so that her mother will have companionship, and I’m hesitating. For one, I don’t want to be a companion — I need time to write and do other solitary activities when I am not walking or dancing. For another, the rent she is asking is too high since they want more from me than simply money. And finally, the place is far from the dance studio, she has a rambunctious dog, and has no internet service.
Do you see the old woman? Do you see the young woman?
And yet, at one time, it would have seemed a good deal to me. The silly thing is the woman’s age. The daughter went on and on about all the things her mother is still capable of doing, such as driving short distances and doing a bit of grocery shopping. Then she listed the things her mother was not capable of doing, such as yard work, getting herself to doctors’ appointments, and picking up a week’s worth of groceries.
I envisioned someone decrepit, and there is no way I want to deal with another old, sick, or dying person, so I asked the mother’s age. I had to have her repeat the number three times because I could not believe it. This elderly woman is my age.
Huh? I’m not elderly. Not even close! I’m not sure what the beginning date for “elderly” is, but I’m not there yet. In fact, according to the US Census, I’m still middle aged. Rapidly sliding down the banister to old age, as are we all, but I am not elderly. And certainly not suited for being a “companion.”
Still, I’ll have lunch with the woman and her daughter next week. Can’t hurt, and for all I know, we could hit it off. I do understand the mother somewhat, even unseen and unmet. The poor woman lost her husband five years ago and her brother (who lived with her) a few months ago. So much sadness and sorrow is enough to throw anyone off kilter.
Meantime, I’m savoring every minute of dance class, and dreaming of the wonders that await me when I begin my wanders.
***
Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.
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April 14, 2015 at 7:01 pm
Understand how you feel.
Interesting how some people seem way older than what they really are, and others seem way younger than their age. It amazes me
In our dance class, everyone looks and acts younger than what they seem to be. Knowledgeable, but active.
April 14, 2015 at 7:38 pm
So very excited for you starting your adventures! I’ll bet all that woman needs is to go to dance classes herself. Plus a little psychotherapy wouldn’t hurt, poor thing. Hugs, Millie
April 14, 2015 at 9:39 pm
While I’m not sure of your age, I know mine…I am turning 65 in a couple of days and that used to be very old. Now my body is thinking it’s old but my mind still thinks I’m about 20…. obnoxious humor, sailor language and rock music and all. 😀
I wish I was middle aged. I would love to live to a hearty 130 but I don’t think I’ve taken that good of care of my body. Ah well, who knows what the future holds.
Pat, what we need is a quest. You know, one of those treks where we have to seek the One Thing that will save the World/Country/City/Princess’ Life. We make our way day by day, afoot and survive by our wits. Alas, the world isn’t set up that way so we seek adventure by backpacking, which I used to do in my youth. Lovely.
Perhaps by June you will have found your quest/adventure. See you then.
April 15, 2015 at 6:11 pm
I had to laugh about the age thing. At the same time, I felt such fear for you getting trapped in something you really don’t want. Don’t do it, Pat! Go for the wanderlust or at least something that’s right for you and I can’t believe this is right. You’re trying to escape this. It’s too easy to get sucked up in what is before you, whether you want it or not. Set your wings free and fly. Speaking for myself, too many times doing just that and regretting it.
April 15, 2015 at 6:15 pm
PS – So I had to search for what exactly is middle age and found this interesting article, which says that middle age lasts until 74 now. 🙂
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/11539573/Middle-age-now-lasts-until-74-as-baby-boomers-refuse-to-grow-old.html
April 15, 2015 at 7:11 pm
I read the article when you posted it on Facebook, but didn’t get a chance to comment. I am even more unelderly than I thought! Besides, elderly is different from old age. Old is just an age. Elderly connotes at least a some frailty.
April 15, 2015 at 7:16 pm
I’m afraid of getting trapped, too. It’s my own need for a place to come back to that makes me want to compromise. I would like to continue taking dance classes in between adventures, but I do think the only way to have a true life-altering adventure is just take off. Set myself free with no limits. Leave myself no easy way back. And yet, there are dance classes . . .
April 15, 2015 at 9:36 pm
It is nice to have a place to come back to that you like, when you are done with your adventure.