“I’m Going To Die Soon”

Says the lady who I’ll name Doris, who found me on the verge of trying to articulate a story around my mother’s approaching retirement. The lady was sixty-seven. My mother is sixty-three.

As I tried to remain positive for Doris by using data like ‘on average people die in their seventies’ or positive thinking like ‘but you still have so much to offer the world,’ Doris seemed quite convinced and good-natured about the whole dying thing. She mentioned, with a sense of humor, that if she were to live much longer she’d probably be placed in a home.

At that point is when I remembered my mother, who just had this discussion with me not too long ago. I wanted to approach the conversation of her retirement not just because it’s around the corner but also because I needed answers. I wanted to be sure what her plans were and that she knew what my plans were. I wanted the conversation to put me at ease.

According to US health statistics and CDC data, nursing homes are made up primarily of those aged 85 and over, and that their second highest category is between 75 and 84 years of age.

According to those numbers, I shouldn’t have to worry about nursing homes or retirements for another decade.

But what is with the finality in people’s demeanor over aging? Why aren’t more adults concerned or better prepared for life after retirement?

How can people in their 60’s and 70’s be so blasé about where the rest of their lives will be spent?

I think about my retirement years now and I’m still well near the first quarter of my life.

From the conversations I’ve had with family and friends I’ve found that the majority of older people whom I know fit into two categories — the shrug-their-shoulders category (no thoughts yet on a plan after retirement) or the people with a semblance of a plan but no urgency behind them.

And the people who are taking their sweet time aren’t in denial but feel so strongly that they will be living several more decades or believe they will still have a high level of autonomy and independence even at a much later age.

Or like Doris, they believe they’ll be dead soon.

I would fall into the second category. I’m not pushing off thinking about retirement and the years afterward, however, I am not working my butt off to live only to 70, let me tell you. I am eating well, exercising, and doing brain puzzles so I may live healthily into my 80’s and 90’s. Meaning I don’t foresee myself needing too much assistance until I’m probably closer to 90’s. I welcome all bed pans, adult diapers, pee bags, and other not-made-cool things as I age.

I assume facing our death must be hard. Hard enough, in fact, to avoid thinking about it.

When I hear older adults tell me that their time is approaching but that they’ve already rolled over, it hurts. And although I understand it, it still hurts.

It hurts because I want so much more for them. I read about active seniors and super seniors and I know that it is possible. That life doesn’t end after our prime, that it doesn’t end after the loans are paid off, or the house. That our lives continue even when we leave the work force, even when our closest friends and loved ones have passed away.

I could be naive. I could know nothing about how an older person should or does feel. But at 34, I’d like to think that I would still retain my belief, no matter my age, that every single second of life is precious and that it can be filled with joy, with growth, with learning, with sharing, and with peace.

I won’t divulge what mother’s plans are for her retirement but the results of our conversation did put me at ease. There are plans. Plans exist.

Ultimately, what I had wanted her to know was that no matter what happened, no matter where we were in the world or in life, that I would want her near me. That if and when she was ready or needed assistance or companionship that I would offer that willingly. That the care of my mother during or after her retirement years is placed so high on my heart that I don’t even question it. That I would never want her to question it or feel like she couldn’t count on me.

My name is Alicia Alcantara-Narrea but I write as Alicia Narrea. During the research of this conversation — aging and retirement — I came across data that opened up new topics and questions for me.

Is the caring of seniors tied with our culture? Data shows that the majority of senior care participants are predominantly white women although more minorities are filtering in. Regarding the care of our seniors, has earlier generational culture shifted with Hispanics/Latinx, with younger more Americanized generations?