Do you remember the old advertisement (it’s probably still on TV) that opens with an elderly woman falling somewhere in her home? It all looks very dark and foreboding.
She then reaches for the handy dandy “responder unit” that she wears on her wrist or around her neck . . pushes the button . . and plaintively says something like, “Help! I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”
We nameless millions who are eaves dropping on her life immediately heave a sigh of relief, with the realization that help is on its way.
What we don’t hear this woman say – but we understand she is actually telling us – is that she has fallen and she can’t get up …………. alone.
There she was, an independent woman (aging alone).
Mostly, she was an independent older woman who’d made choices in her life – as we all do. And for whatever reason, she ended up alone – as many of us already are, or will be.
Everything was fine – or not, but she was living her life her way.
Then, she fell. And all the independence and control she knew she could count on were suddenly a little less dependable.
Can you relate to this woman? I can!
I’ve always been pretty independent. Actually, I’ve been known to be too independent for my own good, whatever that means. And the older I get, the more I connect with this woman’s situation. How about you?
After all, she’d fallen and she couldn’t get up . . alone . . by herself . . damn it! And we all know what that says about her (what it might one day say about us).
When you’re aging alone, the end of your independence and control over your life could be just one fall away (or one financial dilemma away, or one misplaced trust away, or one adult child with a better idea for what YOU need than YOU do away).
Now, that’s scary stuff!
Those little “Contact Emergency Services” gadgets are great, should you need them. Yet, all the gadgets in the world that are available for us to wear or reach for, should we need to, don’t change the fact that the slightest little misstep can up the ante on our independent aging in a major way.
Do you ever travel down the road to Future-ville in your mind, and wonder how your life might change if you one day “fell” and couldn’t get up . . . alone?
- How might your perspective of that independence you wrap yourself in, and are so proud of, change?
- Who could you count on to help you without taking over your life completely?
- Who would you be willing to let help you?
- For how long?
- Then what?
And while we’re on the subject, what other scenarios playing in your head are stomping all over your independence . . your ability to age alone your way?
Who’s tune are you dancing to as you age alone?
You’ve watched the movies. You’ve read the books. How often does the woman aging alone end the story better than she was when it started? (not very good role models for the rest of us, do you think?)
In almost every case, something happens. In almost every story, she “falls” and can’t get up . . alone. What are we to take from that? What are those stories trying to tell us about our own aging?
And why are those the only stories we see – the only stories we seem to write ourselves into?
Have you really bought into the media’s image of who you are? Since when do you trust the media more than yourself?
Maybe the stories you’re telling yourself are even worse than those the media offers. Where do those come from? Why are you falling, and unable to get up alone?
Who “fell” in your history, and couldn’t get up – alone?
From my experience with people on the aging alone path, it’s usually something in their history that triggers the feelings and stories of vulnerability that attach to aging alone.
Maybe it was something that happened to a grandparent when you were a child. For some reason they “fell and couldn’t get up . . alone” . And from that point on that wonderful old person wen internal and pushed everything and everyone else away – including you.
Or they “fell and couldn’t get up . . alone”, and spent the rest of their years “wasting away” in some dreary old place you didn’t want to visit.
Or maybe it was your own parent. Maybe, somewhere along in their aging, they “fell and couldn’t get up . . alone”, and you became a caregiver. And as much as you tried, you couldn’t make them whole again. And every day, no matter how much you cared, they fall farther and couldn’t get up – even with your help.
Maybe it was a family friend who “fell and couldn’t get up . . alone”, and disappeared from your life.
Maybe it was a stranger on the bus, who other people – younger people – kind of looked at or looked away from and said things about under their breath after they “fell and couldn’t get up . . alone”.
And you watched them, knowing that one day that person could be you. One day, you too might fall and be unable to get up . . alone.
And maybe no one would notice. Or no one would care because, let’s face it, people fall and can’t get up all the time . . . particularly when they’re alone.
Does it have to be this way?
But, does it have to be this way? Does “alone” have to lead to such lonely, frightening places? (If so, those “Contact Emergency Services” gadgets are going to be hot ticket items!)
Then again, what if history doesn’t necessarily dictate reality? What if the media isn’t telling your story? After all, it IS your story. Maybe you get to have a say in how the drama plays out.
Who knows? Anything’s possible!
Keep growing my friend,
Gail
Get the Blog via RSS
Get the Blog by Email
Follow Me on Twitter
Join Me on Facebook
{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
My grandmother lived alone even when she was pretty feeble and had one of those gadgets. We think she pushed it every now and then to talk to someone.
After my grandfather died, she refused to move closer to us and I have no idea how my mother managed her care from 3 hours away (I was in college).
We finally got her to move to our city and to a nursing home, but she stayed pretty peeved about it for a long time.
Being alone and old can be mighty lonely. I don’t know about you, Elizabeth, but I can certainly imagine doing the same thing I were in your grandmother’s situation.
I wonder, did anyone ever ask your grandmother how / where she would want to spend her last years? Both of my grandmothers eventually moved across the country to live with my parents. Not everyone can do that, but when you stop to think of everything our elders are expected to give up to move into places where they’ll be “safer” than they are at home, the loss is so incredible. Who can blame them for being a bit “peeved”?!
Though I was young, I think what happened was that her neighbors ended up taking care of her because my mother lived several hours away.
By the time she moved to the nursing home, my mother was the only family she had left and her friends had passed away, too. I’m sure it was tough for her to leave the house she had shared with my grandfather, however, I’m not sure what choice my mom had at the time as on top of all those issues, my grandmother was quite the “character” as well.
I can’t imagine what it would be like, you’re right.
Thank you for sharing your story, Elizabeth. This is exactly the sort of thing that happens all the time as we grow older alone. The question becomes: How do you take this and apply it to your own life, so you can do it differently?