You have to weigh the odds of “Alone” . . a short story

Aging’s part of life. Aging Alone, on the other hand, is how many of us find ourselves defining that part of life.

For good or ill, it’s either a simple fact of life or the focus of everything we dread about growing older.

Aging alone comes into our lives from many directions: Choice, habit, circumstance. And for such a non-specific term, it carries a boat-load of meanings – and emotions.

Particularly as we grow older. If you’re a middle-aged woman in the midst of it, you know exactly what I mean.

Aging as a solo act

I don’t know when I first realized that the second half of my aging would most likely be a solo act. I do know it was just a passing acknowledgement at the time.

Of course, many life altering realizations start as passing acknowledgements, don’t they? The middle years are just too busy to get tied up in all the what ifs’ . . .  They pass through our conscious thought with barely a smirk or nod. Why bother? They know they’ll be coming back.

I don’t know how you feel about facing the years alone – aging alone. Maybe you try not to think about it. Maybe you can’t stop thinking about it. After all, it very well could have a role to play in defining you as you move forward. And you might be fine with that. Or not.

A short story on the odds we weigh for “Alone”

Let me share a short story with you about someone I know and respect who’s struggling to come to terms with the ways “Alone” might end up directing her life.

Not that she won’t give it permission, of course. It’s just that – in weighing the odds – she’s come to believe there are no moves left in the hand she’s been dealt.

See if you agree. Maybe you’d choose a different strategy. Maybe you’d feel as trapped in the halls of “Alone” as she. Either way, see what you think.

A Little Background . . a little perspective

Let me start by saying that the woman whose story I’m sharing with you is someone for whom I’ve a great deal of respect. A solo professional. Divorced. Raising five children on her own – two of whom she’s already put through college. This is a person who lacks for neither confidence, nor insight.

Her aging parents are still living – very close to her. Neither is well. Her mother has Alzheimer’s disease and, between lucid moments, introduces her to a world she fears could one day be her own. Her father has a variety of physical ailments, and recently fractured a hip – even further limiting his mobility.

These two individuals – the carriers of my friend’s history – were once very much in love. They still are, though it’s sometimes hard to pull old memories back to the surface. Lucidity is such an uncooperative thing these days.

For my friend’s father, who is watching the woman he loves disappear before him, aging is taking place more alone than not. And it’s all become a sort of bittersweet, heartbreaking dance.

For my friend, on the other hand, emotions and fears about her own future are increasingly making themselves known. And they aren’t going away.

The plot thickens with worry and decisions

As I mentioned already, this woman is divorced. A while back, however, she started dating again . . . and liking it.

She was never a fan of “Alone. And discovering she might be able to choose to stay that way or not was certainly a boost to her self-identity.

And since we all play the “what if” game in our minds, who could question the possibilities she imagined for herself, given the “right” person and the “right” relationship?

Except the waters started getting murky in that little day dream. She started realizing a few things, and questioning a few more things, and making decisions based the answers she’d come to.

You see, in spite of her mother’s increasing cognitive decline, there could be no question of the love her parents share. It was built on years of knowing one another in the deepest, most personal way. It’s something my friend treasures.

And it’s something she knows she’ll never have in a new relationship. She will never again fall in love with her childhood sweetheart. She will never grow old at the side of a person who loved her when she was young – someone who knows her as well as or better than she knows herself.

This intelligent and sensitive woman also worries about HER prospects for ending up like her mother – aging with Alzheimer’s. And more than that, she worries about doing so alone.

Would her own children be willing to care for her as she cares for her parents?

And what if she grows ever closer to this man she’s been dating? She’s already decided she won’t saddle a spouse with the possibility that she will one day become her mother.

She’s made up her mind that she won’t have a spouse go through the things her father’s going through. She thinks, in all likelihood, she’ll be alone. She’ll age alone. (kind of sounds like a self-imposed loneliness sentence, but her heart’s in the right place)

The trouble with some decisions

Not that it’s her decision alone, of course. What if, just maybe, Alzheimer’s isn’t her destiny?

What if she’s cutting herself off from love and happiness in the name of something that won’t exist for her? It’s a lose / lose for everyone involved.

The way I see it (you did know I would stick my nose in, didn’t you?), there’s some emotionally driven backward thinking going on here. Of course, who can blame her?! Her parents are going through scary stuff, and she’s next in line.

The thing is, though, at this point she’s not playing to win the hand she’s been dealt.

What could she do differently? Well:

• I’m not an expert on Alzheimer’s Disease, sorry. But it seems to me some serious research and question-asking is in order. What’s the REAL likelihood she’ll get the disease? If the spouse-potential doesn’t interest you, then choose to age alone. If he does interest you, you’ll know when the time is right to give him the option. Don’t decide for him. That’s just not fair. Throwing love away based on fear and what ifs’, though, just doesn’t make sense. Know your odds. Then play to win.
• Once you know your risk of getting the disease, be open with your children (particularly the adult children) about what lies ahead for you – for all of you. Give them the opportunity to be involved when the time comes. Shutting them out only isolates you from the people who love you. That’s not fair to anyone.
• Don’t decide anything, and certainly don’t act on any decisions, that are grounded in fear rather than reality. It never ends well. You’re smarter than that.

Fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the known but yet to occur. Aging alone can create fear within fear, and that can be devastating.

My friend is a strong, independent woman. And I have every confidence that she will age – alone or not – with all the wonderful qualities she’s displayed throughout life thus far.

As will you, whatever direction your aging takes. Sometimes the choices are tough ones, as they were here. But everything changes once they’re made.

Do you have some tough choices to make about your aging – your aging alone. How do you do it? How do you deal with the really difficult parts of being alone in your aging. Share your stories.

Keep growing my friend,

Gail

Tagged as: Aging, Aging Alone, aging parents, alone, alzheimer's, choice, circumstance, cognitive decline, dread, fear, growing older, relationship