I don’t think of myself as elderly, even though I am, at least according to the U.S. Census bureau. Don’t get me wrong – I don’t think of myself as hip or trendy, have any illusion that I am cool, that I know anything about today’s music, or that millennials want to hang with me.
I am sixty-six years old. But I am more or less perfectly healthy; work more than full time and while I’ve never been athletic, I take no medication and am as active as I have ever been.
My chief complaint is that there aren’t enough hours in the day. Yes, I do have gray hair.But I’d want to live forever, if I could go on feeling the way I do now.
Especially if I knew I would have enough money. Except….I know I won’t be the same as I am now in twenty years, even if I am lucky enough to still be here — mentally and physically.
The Census Bureau does make a distinction between my age group and the “oldest old,” those who are over 85, meaning the last members of the so-called “greatest generation,” who endured the Great Depression and fought and won World War II.
Soon, most of the “oldest old” will be members of them is named “Silent Generation,” whose war was Korea, and who produced most of the cultural icons who inspired us baby boomers, from Elvis Presley to Diana Ross to Marvin Gaye to Bob Dylan and the Beatles.
We Baby Boomers, those of us born between 1946 and1964, won’t be far behind. My generation grew up at a time when we celebrated youth, and for many of us, it is hard to accept that we are getting old. Not older, but old. We may know playing in the major leagues is no longer possible, even if we got serious about training and quit the office job.
But we like to think that one of these days, we will chuck it all and take off for another Woodstock. Well, the reality is that one of these days, we will be facing some difficult decisions instead. We will need to decide who makes decisions for us if and when we are unable to make them for ourselves any longer. We also have to figure out how to pay for our care.
I have no children and little biological family, so that gives me an extra set of challenges. I’m not feeling sorry for myself. As one bitter old man told me, being childless means your kids can’t steal all your money and abandon you at a shopping mall.
That’s something that has actually happened.
But apart from the personal, there’s this real question, Our needs are going to cost money, cost taxpayers money, and I wonder if the Gen Xers and millennials are going to be fine with paying to cover the end-of-life needs of millions of aging boomers.
I don’t know, but I’m uneasy about the answer. But I know one partial solution: Do everything we can to encourage immigration. Immigrants are, by and large, job creators who would bring energy, families, and a younger vibe to this state and nation.
Personally, I hope to “age in place,” to stay in my home, and if someday I am able to do that thanks to caregivers who may be named Gonzales, Muhammed or Chiang – Wunderbar.
Muchas Gracias, ziezie. Shukran
But whatever happens … just remember we boomers had all the best songs.
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