Tag Archive for: death

5 Strategies for Aging, or Rather Dying, Gracefully | Healthy Aging Series: Part 20

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OK really? Who wants to learn how to die gracefully?! 5 ways to die gracefully? I either lost you or hooked you with the title of this blog. And since you’re reading it, I assume I hooked to you. 

I read a good book this summer. Probably the best book I’ve read on aging. It’s a book by Elizabeth Marshall Thomas titled, “Growing Old: Notes on Aging with Something Like Grace.” I struggled with the book at first. Then, I liked it. And then, I loved it. I took time off from reading it and missed it. Reading “Growing Old” was like scrolling through Thomas’ Instagram page. The good, the bad, and the ugly of what she calls “notes” on life.

Thomas is defiant in her book. Defiant about death and about aging. The dust cover of the book has a picture of her smoking on her 88th birthday. She’s lighting her cigarette with her birthday-cake candles. She’s giving a big middle finger to growing old. I loved it. Maybe not so graceful. “Aging,“ she writes, “is not for the faint hearted.” 

The First Three Strategies for Aging Well 

Thomas may be defiant about the idea of aging, but her book also one of the most tender and intimate books on aging that I’ve read. Sure, she has three suggestions on aging well. First, stay healthy. OK, I’ve written a lot about ways of staying healthy. I’ve talked about exercise and good nutrition. Not so much about sleep, but it’s just as important. So, I’m not going to talk about it during this blog. Second, do something. I’ve written about this as well and will continue to write about in upcoming blogs. You need to have purpose and something worth doing as you age. Thomas has written 15 books, and she’s in the middle of writing a novel. She’s doing something. Third, don’t be isolated. I’ve talked a lot about this when it comes to your psychological resiliency. Staying involved and engage in the community and with others is extremely important to aging gracefully. So, there is some sage advice in her book, and its good advice about aging.

New Title for Her Book

I thought about her title, “Notes on aging with Something Like Grace,” and wondered if a better title might have been “Notes on Dying Gracefully.”

Strategy 4 For Dying Well: A Healthy Denial of Getting Old

There are two more strategies in our book. The one that stands out to me is her Healthy Denial of Getting Old.
She expresses this very healthy denial of getting old, and not in the sense that she is denying the aging process of dying but in the sense that getting old does not have a predetermined script. 

“Ninety looks like fifty,“ she writes, “when you’re forty.”

I’m guessing that most 50 and 60-year-olds do not feel 50 or 60. Age is relative. A number. I am 66 years old. Do I feel 66 years old? Really, I have a few aches and pains, but I don’t feel different than I did when I was 50 or 55 years old maybe I’m a little smarter and not in the arrogant sense. I know more about my profession than I did 10 to 20 years ago. I’ve learned a lot about myself. I can guide people into wilderness areas. I’ve learned a lot about relationships, and about life, and about the world. I hope I have.

Thomas shares a story about the time she had a discussion with her grown children about what would happen to her house when she dies. Her grandson was part of this conversation and became tearful and said, “You can’t die grandma.” “Everyone dies,” she told him. “Not you.” he said.

A heathy denial of getting old does not mean that I’m in denial that I’m going to die. It means denying that there is a prescribed way that I must die. I get to write my own script for getting older. I get to age and die on my terms, the way I want.

Strategy 5 for Dying Well: Coping with Losses

One of the more intimate sections of the book is about the loss of her dog, pearl. Thomas guides us through the deaths of her parents, and then her husband, who died from ALS, and then pearl. Losing the people in her life was like losing an emotional support system and losing companions. Losing pearl as she describes it, was like losing part of herself. Death takes its toll on those it leaves behind. Thomas describes the loss of pearl, as losing part of herself, like an arm and a leg. 

Note: Since loss is such a common experience with aging, I will do a complete series on loss and grief.

All my siblings experienced the loss of my parents differently. I think my sisters miss them the most. My mother would often comment about the loss of my father and the loss of her friends. I’m not sure how all this loss affects us, but Thomas implies that it makes us more compassionate toward others. Does, seeing the shortness of life, as you experience the loss of others, soften us towards others, looking past imperfections, wishing them well, and showing them kindness? That’s compassion. The other side of love is freedom I read years ago. That’s what the world needs, loss equals compassion. Maybe I’ll add another strategy for dying gracefully that I got from Thomas. 

This is part twenty in the Healthy Aging Series, written by Mark Neese, LCSW, BCBA. To see more entries in this series, click here.

How to Live Well in the Marginal Decade

How to Live Life Backwardly | Healthy Aging Series: Part 19

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Several years ago, I worked with a young man who walked backwards. OK, he had some psychological problems and I guess if you think about it, what he did, kind of made sense. He didn’t want people sneaking up on him. He was a little paranoid, and a little cautious. 

Your Marginal Decade

I was listening to one of my favorite podcasts (Huberman Lab) a few days ago. Dr. Andrew Huberman was interviewing Dr. Peter Attia. They were sharing a concept that I often share with my clients.  I preach that you need to prepare for the last 10 years of your life. They referred to this period of your life as, your Marginal Decade. They also introduced a new concept that was developed by Annie Duke, author of  “Thinking in Bets.” The concept was Backcasting, and it really doesn’t have anything to do with walking backward, and it is very different than the typical way we look at our lives. 

Backcasting vs. Forecasting

I recently went to my doctor, and she ordered a vascular screening. They looked at my calcium levels around my heart, and at my carotid arteries, and my pulmonary artery. They looked at my bone density. Lots of stuff.

They took a snapshot of my current risk factors and then they forecasted whether I was at risk for a cardiovascular event. That’s what the medical community does. They gather information through various screenings, such as your weight, your blood work, and current behaviors, and then they use that data to predict or forecast what your future health conditions will be. I wrote a blog about a study that asked whether there were predictors for successful aging. That’s forecasting.  

Backcasting is doing just the opposite. I tell my clients (often) that they must prepare for the last 10 years of their life. During the podcast is was referring to earlier, Dr. Attia, introduced a new term or a new way of looking at those last 10 years. He referred to them as the Marginal Decade. It is the last decade that you will live, and it is likely to be a tough one.

“ The gravity of aging,“ Dr Attia said, “is more vicious than we can imagine.”

I couldn’t agree more. That last decade has the potential of being very vicious to us. One of the strategies that has been suggested for preparing for that last decade is the process of Backcasting. Here is how it works: Think about what you want your marginal decade to look like (Fitness goals, psychological goals, social goals), and then begin developing strategies that will help you arrive at those goals. In other words, this is a creative way of preparing for the last 10 years of your life.

How I Backcasted My Life

This is a very personal experience and process. I believe, based on my parents average age of their death (85 years old), that I will be entering into my marginal decade in nine years. What do I want those last 10 years, from 75 to 85, to look like? First, I imagine that I want to be stable and able to come and go as I please. Second, I imagine that I want to be able to do the things that a person needs to do take care of himself to get around, and to get in and out of the community. Third, I imagine that want to be able to use my brain in my relationships, in my work, in my travels, and in my adventures. Fourth, I imagine that I want good solid relationships in my life. Fifth, I imagine that I want to continue writing. Sixth, I want to be able to study the things that I’m interested in. I want to go to the bottom of the well on topics that interest me! Seventh, I want to be able to hike mountains. I want to be able to cycle 15 or 20 miles on a Sunday afternoon. I want to be strong and be able to lift my own body weight in a dead lift. Backcasting doesn’t just mean physicality and emotional well-being, but it also involves your financial stability. Eighth, I imagine having the resources necessary to travel and have a comfortable life. These things are important to me. 

What do you want your Marginal Decade to look like? 

Once you get a snapshot of your marginal decade in your mind, it’s time to start mapping out the months, years, and decades leading up to that marginal decade. So, how do you act on a good Backcast of your marginal decade? I believe there are some meaningful and simple steps that you can take to do this. I’ve written blogs on resiliency, and these blogs address a lot of what I’m about to share. 

When it comes to physical resiliency, you’re looking at nutrition, exercise, and sleep. Set goals for yourself physically. Currently my goal is to exercise 8 to 10 hours a week. It always involves some resistance training. Usually that involves lifting weights to stay strong. I also do a lot of cardio exercising which includes cycling, hiking, and backpacking. If I want to be strong during my marginal decade, then I’m going to have to continue being strong and the decade leading up to my marginal decade.

If you want a healthy brain, then I must exercise. I am writing blogs currently on the aging brain and one of the principles that I’ve learned is, what’s good for the heart is good for the brain. We all know what’s good for the heart. I’ve also talked about being stable as you get older to avoid falls. My prescription is to add instability into your work outs to be more stable. So, I’m working on continuing to be strong during the decades leading up to my marginal decade. When I was in my late 50s, I was using a personal trainer and he asked me what I wanted my goal to be for when I was 60. I told him, “ I want to be a bad ass when I’m 60!” Now it’s my goal as I approach seventy.

What about Backcasting for your psychological well-being?

How do you maintain your psychological resiliency during your marginal decade? There are many things that you can do now to ensure that when you’re in your marginal decade you have a healthy and strong psychological constitution. First, being psychologically and emotionally resilient means having friends, investing your time and energy into your family and social relationships. Second, it means studying. Study topics that interest you! Read difficult books. Learn difficult things. Third, work your brain out the same way you would work out your body. Push yourself psychologically. Fourth, force yourself to have social engagements with your family and friends! Look for new friendships! 

These are the things that I am doing to prepare for my marginal decade. This isn’t brain surgery folks! Getting older and preparing for your marginal decade is not like falling off a log. And by that, I mean it isn’t going to happen accidentally. You must be purposeful in preparing for that marginal decade! I suppose that preparing for your marginal decade is in its simplest terms developing a lifestyle that will bring about positive changes and help sustain what you’ve been working on to date. Start working on that lifestyle now.

This is part nineteen in the Healthy Aging Series, written by Mark Neese, LCSW, BCBA. To see more entries in this series, click here.

Healthy Aging Series by Mark Neese

How to Have a Killer Retirement: 3 Principles for “Writing Your Own Script” | Healthy Aging Series: Part 18

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I was sitting at a McDonald’s a few years ago and overheard a conversation between two men. Both men were in their early 60’s. I recall that one of them had already retired and he was trying to convince the other man to retire. His argument was that when you retire, your time is your own.

It’s interesting the way we are programmed about retirement. Work all your adult life until you turn sixty-five. Stop working. Live on your retirement income. End of story. That’s how it’s written. I get it. I can’t imagine working a job when I’m eighty or ninety. Or maybe I can. I met with a couple this morning. They’re owners of an agency called, “The Center for Conscious Aging.” Chris, who is seventy-three, has a mother who is ninety-three. She retired at eighty-seven. Chris is still working. Maybe, that’s not how it’s written.

My brother-in-law is eighty-four and still working. People continue to work into their seventies and eighties for several reasons. They want to make a difference. They need to supplement their retirement income. They need to stay connected with people. They simple love what they do. Lots of reason. There is no right way or wrong way to spend your senior years. Retirement is a social construct. It’s a pre-written script that many, many individuals during retirement age refuse to follow. Maybe, we can write our own script for retirement.

I’ve been reading a lot of books on aging and one phrase that has come up a few times is: “You need to write your own script.” Maybe the word ‘narrative’ resonates with people today. 

Creating Your Own Script/Narrative.

The beauty of the retirement years is you get to decide what they look like. They are YOUR retirement years. Not mine. Not your children’s. Not your co-worker’s. Not your wife’s. You only get one crack at your senior years. Maybe thirty or thirty-five years if you’ve taken care of yourself and if you’re lucky. You get the chance to craft a life for yourself that will bring you happiness and contentment. Sure, there are limits to what you can do, limits to what your narrative will look like, but still, regardless of your limits, you can craft a life that suits you. You can write a script that mirrors what you value and what you find important.

How does one write their own script?

For some of you reading this, it’s too soon to start writing you script. You’re in your forties and fifties. The last thing you’re thinking about is retirement. But it’s not too soon to start dreaming about your future self, about what your life might look like in your seventies and eighties.

But if you’re in your late fifties or early sixties, it’s time to start, and here are some principles that I have used to write my script.

First Principle: What Gives Me Meaning and Purpose in Life?

My script reflects my desire to make a difference in this world. I can’t imagine not doing what I do. I get up each week, knowing that I help people face and solve their problems. It’s tiresome at times, but a good kind of tiresome. I work with a teen that is struggling with gender identity issues. I work with an elderly woman that lost her husband. I work with a young man that has lost his way. And a woman that struggles with her life choices. My script involves working  as long as I’m able to listen and express care and concern. What gives you meaning and purpose? Making furniture? Volunteering at the local homeless shelter? Crafting? Being a mentor to young people in your church, synagogue, or neighborhood? Being a Friendly Visitor? Whatever it is, write those things into your script.

Second Principle: What do I value?

My Script reflects the relationships that I value. I value my relationship with my wife. No surprise there! I value my relationship with my sons, with my grandchildren, and with my friends. My script reflects the people that I value. My script has me home most of the time with my wife. My script has me spending some evenings during the month with my son, Derrick, and every three months with my other son, Trevor, and my two granddaughters, Sophie and Harper. My script has me hiking with my good friend, Sam, and a couple of young men that challenge the hell out of me, Chris and Stacy. I have written people into my script.

Third Principle: Taking care of Myself.

My script reflects the importance of taking care of myself. I remember visiting my father after a very long and grueling backpacking trip in the Sierra Mountains. His response was, “Kimberly (the name he called me), that doesn’t seem like fun to me!” I said, “We’ll Dad, it wasn’t fun. That’s not why I do it!” His script didn’t involve challenging himself, mentally and physically that way. Mine did.

My script involves hiking, biking, and lifting weights. It involves limiting my sugar intake. Watching my weight. Reading self-help books. It involves watching very stupid movies like Sharknado and watching funny series like “What we do in the Shadows.”
My script involves spending time with my extended family. It involves walking every Thursday with my friend Gordon. It involves having some good collegial friends that I can call and consult with about tough cases.

My script involves what we call, self-care. I tell the newer therapists that I supervise, if they want to continue doing what they are doing for the next 25 or 30 years, they need to take care of themselves. How are they going to take care of others, their family, and friends, and their clients, if they are spent? I have written Self-Care into my script. Maybe this is where I should have started.

Writing your own script doesn’t mean that you are literally writing a script. What it means is, you are living the life that you want regardless of what others say. It means following your own compass in your senior years, your True North.

I love the movie, “Citizen Kane.”  The character played by Orson Welles, is on his deathbed, and with his last breath says, “Rosebud.” The reporter that witnessed his death spends the rest of movie trying to figure out, who was Rosebud. I won’t spoil the ending, other than to say that Rosebud was important to him. His final word reflected the script that he had been living.

What will you say on your deathbed? What is your Rosebud? Are you living a script that you’ve written?

I’m not sure what my last words will be in my script. I haven’t written them yet. Maybe they’ll be, “Game over, man!” (I love the movie Aliens) Or, maybe I’ll write something else. Maybe I’ll write what McMurtry wrote into Gus McCrae’s last words, into his script in Lonesome Dove. “It’s been quite a party, ain’t it, Woodrow.”

This is part eighteen in the Healthy Aging Series, written by Mark Neese, LCSW, BCBA. To see more entries in this series, click here.

Heathy Aging Series: How to Clean up after Yourself, before You Die

How to Clean Up After Yourself, Before You Die | Healthy Aging Series: Part 17

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I think about dying almost every day. I know it sounds a little morbid. It’s actually hard to not think about it. I’m not quite pushing 70 but I’m closer to 70 then I am to 60. I have signs that I’m aging and in fact dying. Graying hair. White whiskers. Organs and body parts not working as well as they used to. When my senior friends and I get together, those meetings turn out to be what some referred to as an “organ recitals.” Comparing the last lab work, or doctor visit, or health insurance.

What do I think about when I think about dying? 

At times, I think about how I’m going to get rid of all the junk that I have accumulated over the years. I’ve begun to see my senior years is it time to start divesting myself of material things.  That’s why Margaretta Magnusson’s book, “The gentle art of Swedish Death Cleaning,“ caught my eye. I’m sure we’ve all witnessed death cleaning. My mother cleaned up after my grandfather when he died. I wasn’t living at home at the time, but I remember mom talking about how painful it was. When my paternal grandfather died, I remember my father getting grandpa’s Remington 16-gauge shotgun. I think there was a lottery process that grandma used to distribute his things. That was Death Cleaning. 

What is that cleaning? It’s the act of getting rid of the things that people accumulated during their life after they die. In some ways, it means cleaning up the mess that people made while they were living. Often, Death Cleaning falls on wives and daughters. They clean up after their family members when they die. 

Magnusson suggest a different approach to death cleaning, one that shows compassion to the ones we leave behind. She advocates that we “clean up after ourselves before we die.” Here are her or her gentle guidelines for the art of doing your own death cleaning. 

First, Magnusson reminds us that there is no sadness in thinking about or doing your own death cleaning. There is no sadness in visiting the things you accumulated one last time before finding them a new home. There is no sadness when you introduce your things to a new owner who will use them and appreciate them. I had a kayak and a mountain bike sitting in my garage. Neither one had been used for five years. I found them new homes with new owners that would use them and appreciate them. There was nothing sad about that desk cleaning. 

Magnusson‘s second gentle guideline involves getting started. Getting started generally involves three phases: 

PHASE ONE OF DEATH CLEANING

Go through your things. Do a survey. During this beginning phase you must get past your sentimentality. I don’t work with hoarders but I’m guessing that it’s sentimentality that creates the problem of accumulating all the things they have. It’s probably the answer to the question: Why do I keep my things and why did I accumulate them in the first place. As you do your survey of things, think about the boxes and boxes of things you have in your basement and in your garage and in your attic. The boxes of your children’s elementary school papers, and childhood toys, old Hallmark cards, childhood books, baby blankets, old tools, old dishes, the small appliances that you haven’t use for the past five years, bicycles you never ride, gifts you’ve never taken out of the boxes, clothing you never wear anymore, and the list can go on and on. Survey your storage unit if you have one. 

Why are all the new storage units being built? They are going up everywhere! And they are full of the things you’ve accumulated because of sentimentality. And it is sentimentality that is creating this hold on you and prevents you from getting rid of them. People who invest in building storage unts are counting on it. Think about how much people are willing to spend to nurture their sentimentality. Typically, a small unit is $75-$100 per month. Phase One: survey all of the things that you’ve accumulated and keep in mind the reason why you still have them. Sentimentality.

PHASE TWO OF DEATH CLEANING

Sort your Things. In your mind start two piles: The things you want to keep and the things you want to find a new home. Magnusson goes through the survey and begins with clothing. I do this regularly. I pull out totes with clothes that I haven’t worn for the past year or two. I have “keep and giveaway” piles. The giveaway pile I bag up and take to Goodwill. I have three criteria and deciding what goes into which pile. 

Do they fit anymore? Yes or no. Have I worn them in the past year? Yes or no. Would I wear them again? Do I still like them? Yes or no. Keep or give away.

Books. I love books and seeing them on bookshelves in my office. I have developed a new Death Cleaning policy for buying books. For every new book I buy I get rid of a book. I periodically go through my books and ask:

Why do I have this book? If it’s purely sentimental it’s going into the “giveaway“ pile.

I have a problem with coffee cups. I get cups from places I’ve visited. The Starbucks in San Francisco, Phoenix, Grand Canyon, make it hard for me to walk away without a cup. I’ve picked up cups in most national parks. I a new cup from the great Smoky Mountains national Park. I like to drink out of cups from places I’ve been. I’m kind of sentimental about that. But our kitchen cabinet can only handle so many cups. We have boxes of cups we never use. It’s time to sort through them. Two piles. Keep or give away.

PHASE THREE OF DEATH CLEANING

Get rid of the “find a new home“ pile. Magnusson has a couple of suggestions that make it a little easier on us as we confront our sentimentality. First, she suggests we take our time. This process can take place over a period of years. I’ve set aside some books my mother gave me for my granddaughters. I’ll give them the books. in a few years. I gave away four guitars to my sons. I think the important part of phase 3 is to begin the process of finding your things a new home. Her second suggestion is to start with less sentimental items and slowly move toward the more sentimental things. This helps “prime the pump.” You experience the satisfaction of getting rid of things that are less sentimental, and then you’re willing to try it with more sentimental things to experience the same satisfaction.

Stop accumulating things!

One of the best ways to begin cleaning up after yourself before you die is to avoid making a mess of things before you die. 

Quit buying things you don’t need!

Quit accumulating sentimental things that have no practical value.

Start finding things a new owner by never giving them a new home in the first place. 

Resist your sentimentality.

My Mother’s Death Cleaning

The day my mother died, I stayed in her little apartment. She didn’t have much. She had already given away most of her things. I had asked for her Gladys Tabor books a few years earlier and they had found a new home. I had given her Joseph Campbell’s, “Hero with a Thousand Faces,“ for her birthday a few years earlier. I did a little Death Cleaning and took it with me along with a knitted blanket and Clock. Her grandchildren were invited over a day or two later to claim the things they wanted. 

Mom made it easy for us because she had cleaned up after herself before she died.

I have a lot of stuff, a lot of things. I’m guessing you do, too. Do the loving and considerate thing and start the process of Death Cleaning now. 

Avoid making a mess in your life, that someone else will be forced to clean up, by walking away from the things you never needed in the first place. And give the rest away!

This is part seventeen in the Healthy Aging Series, written by Mark Neese, LCSW, BCBA. To see more entries in this series, click here.

Healthy Aging Series: Grandparenting 2 Lessons I learned about Grandparenting from My Grandparents

2 Lessons I Learned About Grandparenting From My Grandparents | Healthy Aging Series: Part 10

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What did you call your grandparents? I called mine ‘grandma’ and ‘grandpa,’ and then use their first names when talking about them: Grandpa Jim and Grandma Louise, my maternal grandparents, and Grandpa Pat and Grandma Lulu, my paternal grandparents. 

If I asked you to recall the most vivid memory of each of your grandparents, what would it be?

Here are mine:

Grandpa Jim: taking us fishing in a creek that ran past his home in Terre Haute, Indiana. 

Grandma Louise: making cinnamon and sugar crisp. She always baked us  a cake for our birthdays. 

Grandpa Pat: riding on top of his John Deere tractor when I was elementary age.

Grandma Lula: taking me aside when I was 29-years old and telling me she had prayed us out of the Catholic Church.

Religion played an important part in my family during my formative years. My mother was raised Catholic, and my father was raised by a Pentecostal mother. My father converted to Catholicism when he married my mother. My grandmothers were always feuding about with us and each other about religion, and it seemed like the grandchildren were caught in the middle. 

My parents were practicing Catholics until I was eight years old. We left the Catholic Church due to disagreements they had with their Priest and my Catholic grandmother disowned us for five years. 

Score one for Pentecostal prayer.

During those next years, we were Lutherans, Methodists, and Unitarians, but never Pentecostal. 

Score one for open-mindedness.

 I could share more about my “faith“ development, but this is about grandparenting, not religion, even though religion and grandparenting we’re completely intertwined in my family life. Make no mistake, I learned a lot about grandparenting from my grandparents. 

What were those lessons? I want to make a point as I share these lessons. These lessons are the things I learned from MY grandparents. Many of us have very diverse experiences with grandparents. Some people were raised by their grandparents. Some people lost their grandparents when they were young children. My Grandpa Pat died when I was 13 years old. I didn’t have a lot of exposure to him as a teenager and adult. So, these are the lessons that I learned from MY grandparents.

Lesson One: Mind your own business!

Listen to me, those of you who have adult children and are anticipating or already have grandchildren! Mind your own business. 

You don’t like the politics of your grown children? Mind your own business!

You don’t like the way you’re grown children parent your grandchildren? Mind your own business! 

You don’t like the way your children spend their money? Mind your own business you don’t approve of their choices of friends, or choices of occupations, or even their choice of partners? Mind your own business! 

You don’t like the tidiness or lack of tidiness of their home and  think they should be getting along better with your other adult children, their siblings,  or they get divorced. Mind your own business. 

If you don’t approve of their choice of pets or the number of pets they have, keep your opinion and your advice to yourself. Even if you don’t approve of their choice of religion, denomination, or the church they attend, mind your own business!  

If you want to have a loving caring, nurturing, supportive relationship with your grandchildren, then accept their parents, your grown children, for who they are and mind your own business.

This includes giving unsolicited advice. Never do it! Giving unsolicited advice is a subtle form of disapproval. I always felt alienated and  the disapproval of my grandmother‘s because they disapproved of my parents’ choices.

Lesson Two: Spoil your grandchildren with your time and attention.

Hug them. Kiss them, even when they don’t like it. My older granddaughter is at that stage, but I hug her when I see her and kiss her on the forehead and tell her that I love her! My granddaughters live in another state, but I see them every three months. Before I go, I visit bookstores and other stores where I can pick up small things to make a grab bag for them. I love watching them open the grab bags. Later during my visit, I take them on a shopping spree to H&M or American Eagle, or Charlotte Russe.

I love going camping with them and their parents. We love going to a state park in Colorado called 11 Mile Lake. On my last visit we went out on the driveway and played basketball with their mother. My granddaughters have three other grandparents that are actively involved with them doing all types of things. I see them fishing with their other grandfather often on Facebook. One of their grandmothers is constantly encouraging them to go hiking with her. We all tell them that we love them, and we hug them, and spend as much time with them as we possibly can.
We all think about leaving our grandchildren money for things like college or a down payment for a house. And if we can, that’s an important form of inheritance that we can leave them.

I believe the most important things that we can leave our grandchildren are the memories and experiences we had with them.

In the business world, investors make a distinction between tangible and intangible assets and investments. Tangible investments are things like buildings and equipment. Intangible assets are things like a company‘s brand, their goodwill, and intellectual property.

In parenting and grandparenting, we can make tangible and intangible investments in our children’s and grandchildren’s lives. Leaving a college fund or down payment for a home or car can be helpful for our grandchildren. Those are tangible investments.

The way you make intangible investments in your grandchildren is by spoiling them with your time and attention. 

Making an intangible investment in your grandchildren isn’t being proud of them! It’s telling them that you’re proud of them. 

It means encouraging them to follow their bliss. It means telling them that you love them.

What did you learn about grandparenting from your grandparents? Think of ways you can learn from them. They made mistakes. We all do. I have. I hope that I’ve been a good grandparent and set an example for my granddaughters when it’s time for them to be grandparents. 

This is part ten in the Healthy Aging Series, written by Mark Neese, LCSW, BCBA. To see more entries in this series, click here.

Your Body is a Temple

Your Body is a Temple | Healthy Aging Series: Part 9

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Part 1: My Parents

The last 10 years of my father‘s life were very difficult. He died at 82. At 72 he had quintuple coronary artery bypass surgery. Then he received an Aortobifemoral Artery Replacement. And then he needed a small section of his colon removed because of cancer. 

The doctor performed the heart bypass surgery gathered us around in the surgery waiting room and told us that there were signs of emphysema. This was not good. He recovered from his surgeries but over the next 10 years suffered from COPD which was caused by the emphysema. 

It would not surprise you to hear that my father was a lifelong smoker. Most of my father‘s health problems were lifestyle related. My mother fared better but her last 10 years were challenging. Mom was physically unstable. She walked to Hardee’s every morning about 2/10 of a mile. I had coffee and socialized with her peer group. I do not remember mom ever exercising. Beyond mild cardio and I never remember any resistance training. Consequently mom fell at least twice she was lucky because neither fall resulted in a hospitalization but she short suffered a shoulder injury and her face was black and blue. She also suffered from atrial fibrillation or a-fib. It can be genetic but more often it’s a lifestyle related disorder. My mom‘s instability and a-fib were due, in large part, to lack of cardio training and mobility stability training. My mother‘s death was caused by symptoms related to the a-fib. She had difficulties with it a month prior to her death. She was hospitalized and most likely contracted an opportunist virus.

I tell my clients, “You have to prepare for the last 10 years of your life.” I tell them that these are in all likelihood going to be the most difficult years of your life because those are the years that you are more vulnerable and susceptible to opportunistic illnesses and injuries related to instability and lack of mobility. 

Mom and dad were examples of just how important it is to take care of yourself.

Part 2: Practicing What I Preach

I’ve been very fortunate in my 40s, 50s, and now 60s. I’ve been doing the Grand Canyon since 2001 almost every year. I’ve backpacked Rim to River to Rim (R2R2R) 15 times or more.  A few years ago I did R2R2R2R2R in a period of three days. 

I can do the Incline, in Manitou Springs Colorado, a 1 mile in distance but gaining 2000 feet of elevation, in 75 minutes.

I’ve done some hellacious backpacking trips in California to include Mount Whitney the highest peak in the continental United States. I have backpacked in the Tetons in Wyoming, Canyonlands National Park in Utah, and many 14,000 foot peaks in Colorado. I’ve run several half-marathons and two marathons and countless of 5Ks, 10Ks, and 10 Miler‘s, 

I’ve ridden my Cannondale 613 across the state of Indiana, 161 miles, the day before my 55th birthday, all in one day. I rode across the Golden Gate bridge, ridden the Mount Vernon trail to DC, and along the south rim of the Grand Canyon. I’ve kayaked a 20 mile stretch of the Green River through Mammoth Cave National Park. 

I recently rebooted my interest in orienteering, and have been running through the woods. I lift weights almost every week. Tristin, my Personal trainer from my 50s asked me what I wanted for my goals and I answered: I want to be a badass at 60. 

I spent my 60th birthday on the top of Mount Bierstadt.

I’m not in perfect health. My kidneys don’t filter like they used to. Most likely due to taking too much ibuprofen. My thyroid doesn’t work anymore. I take level thyroxine. I’m 5 pounds heavier than I want. I walk or hike 3 to 5 miles 4-5 times a week. I still lift weights 2 to 3 times weekly I use intermittent fasting control my weight. Monday through Friday I don’t eat until noon. I avoid sugar during the week.  I limit my alcohol intake to one or two drinks daily. I like getting “Misty“ in the evenings much like Gus McCrae confessed in the novel “Lonesome Dove,” by Larry McMurtry. I think sugar is the scourge of our modern era. Did I say that I think sugar is the scourge of our modern era!  I’ll be 66 this year and I want to do a feat of strength like Jack Lalaine did every year but I’m learning to be more gentle on my body.

I take more break days. I cut back on my mileage. I’m getting older. There, I said it. When I was in my mid-50s I started to think about aging  so I concluded that I needed more information. I started reading. And I got certified as a Personal Trainer with a specially in Senior Fitness. A few years back I read everything I could about nutrition. Now I’m reading everything I can on healthy aging and fitness.

Part 3: How to Prepare for the Last Ten Years of Your Life

Here is what I’ve learn about preparing for the last ten years of your life:

1. Move!

Never stop moving! Walk, skip, jump. Lift, carry, transfer! Park as far from the entrance of the store as you can. Lift as much as you can and of course lift with your legs. Walk in the parks, walk in your neighborhood, walk after dinner, walk on walking paths, walk on trails, and of course lift weights. Do squats, do step ups, and move in any way that you possibly can! Never stop moving. 

2. Incorporate instability in your movement!

If a doctor tells you to use a cane or walker and follow those recommendations. Otherwise incorporate as much instability in your workouts as you possibly can. Walking on level streets is good but walking on unlevel surfaces is even better! I typically run into hikers doing day hikes in the Jefferson forest and see them using trekking poles. This is providing a level of stability utilizing their arms and trekking poles and upper body that is preventing their legs and lower body and core from strengthening the muscles that they need to increase their stability. The more unstable your surface the more likely that it’s going to create stability in your core and in your legs! This is very important!  I recently became a Functional Aging Specialist and this is absolutely the most current information that you can have on becoming more stable as you age.

3. Build Muscle Mass

One of the conditions that begins in mid-life that affects most people is something known as Sarcopenia. This is a loss of muscle mass. Hormonal changes in middle life, such as decreasing growth hormone, contribute to this loss of muscle mass. You can, however, counteract this process by maintaining a moderate level of resistance training and consuming an adequate amount of protein. Researchers have been studying protein supplements with and without exercise and have overwhelmingly concluded that an increase in protein supplement without exercise contributes very little muscle growth. If you want to maintain or grow muscle mass then do resistance training. It’s one way to ensure that you don’t suffer from Sarcopenia.

4. Fitness and the Brain

One of my concerns as I age is my brain. I’ve read numerous books on developing a healthy brain or maintaining a healthy brain and here’s what I’ve learned: the two more most important things that you can do are: eating lots of fruits and vegetables and exercise. It’s that simple. You maintain a healthy brain by exercise and good nutrition.

I titled this blog, Your Body is a Temple. One thing is very certain: you only have one body that is going to get you through until the day that you pass on. You have to take care of it, and you have to start taking care of it now. In a sense there should be some amount of reverence that you show towards your body. Take care of it. Nurture it. Exercise it. Ensure that it’s getting the absolute best fuel that you can give it.

Preparing for the last 10 years of your life means preparing now.

Exercise and eat well!

This is part nine in the Healthy Aging Series, written by Mark Neese, LCSW, BCBA. To see more entries in this series, click here.

Healthy Aging Series written by Mark Neese

Living Is Dying, Or Is It The Other Way Around? (Part 3) | Healthy Aging Series: Part 8

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There is a very thin line between living and dying, in much the same way that there is a thin line between fiction and non-fiction. 

I wonder what Mom would say? 

As a Jungian-Inspired Psychotherapist, I spend time doing “shadow work.” James Hollis, a Jungian Analyst, suggests that we do this by having conversations with our diseased parents, in order to explore our Parent Complexes. In his book, “Hauntings: Dispelling the Ghosts Who Run Our Lives,” he asserts that we are living out the unfulfilled dreams of our parents. So, I’m curious. I talk to her and I ask her questions. 

Most of my conversations are done when I’m hiking. “What were your dreams, Mom?” I ask while hiking the Mitch McConnell Trail in the Jefferson Forest. “What did you want when you were a young woman and a young mother?” I want to ask about her father, but I don’t yet. 

I want to ask her what she thinks of me. Maybe she would ask me what I think of her, as a mother. I would listen as she recounts her joys and sorrows. I would smile as she tells me how cute I am and how I’m her little pixie. 

She would ask me questions about theology and now I listen and answer. 

I ask her what it feels like to be old, and she gives her standard answer. “I would never want to be any age other than what I am right now.” I’m convinced.

I tell her about my belief that living is dying, and she says, “Oh no Kimmer, living isn’t dying.”

I respond that we’re all dying. “I don’t know if we begin to die at birth or at fifty or sixty. But yes, we’re all dying,” I say. But in her overly-optimistic way Mom explains that some people spend their life living and some spend it dying. “Living isn’t dying, dying is living,” she says.

I don’t know if Mom ever watched “Shawshank Redemption,” but in my “shadow” talks she has. She reminds me of the quote from Red, “Get busy living or get busy dying.” 

I tell her how the boys are doing. I tell her that Harper and Sophie, her great-granddaughters, are well. I tell her that I’m happy despite the virus. I’m happy. I can tell from her voice that she is happy too. 

I tell her that I love her and that we will talk soon.

As I hang up, I still feel the warmth of her hand as she was fading in that dim hospital room. She wasn’t dying. She was living. 

And now, I’m living too. 

This is part eight in the Healthy Aging Series, written by Mark Neese, LCSW, BCBA. To see more entries in this series, click here.

Healthy Aging Series written by Mark Neese

Living Is Dying, Or Is It The Other Way Around? (Part 2) | Healthy Aging Series: Part 7

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I was in the hospital room with my mother when she died. It was just Mom and me. Her death was a little unexpected because she had been in very good health. I honestly don’t know what caused her death. It had something to do with an infection, but maybe it was congestive heart failure. I feel a little guilty that I don’t know the exact cause. She was doing well, and then she got sick, and then, three weeks later she was gone. It wasn’t traumatic, like suicide or an accident. I would say it was peaceful, but was it really that unexpected? She was eighty-seven after all. Same with my father. He died at eighty-two. Who didn’t see that coming? He had smoked most of his life and had been diagnosed with emphysema, and later with COPD. He had been on oxygen for probably a year, maybe longer. He told us that he wanted to be cremated because the thought of being in an enclosed, confined place made him feel panicky.  Even now, my heart goes out to him.

Because I lived a hundred miles from my mother, her death feels like those videos on social media that you see when you’re scrolling through your newsfeed.  I remember it as a series of video snippets..

Snippet 1: 

I see her sitting in her recliner, watching Bill O’Reilly. She tells us she has an appointment with her doctor this week. A problem with her heartbeat, she tells us. 

Snippet 2:

I see Mom in the hospital bed. Family members gathered around. Visiting with my sons, Derrick in person and Trevor by Facetime. 

Snippet 3:

I see the southern Indiana landscape passing as I drive from Louisville to Evansville to spend time with her.

Snippet 4:

A few days before her death, I see the family gathering around her again as the doctor examines her. There is concern on everybody’s face. 

She’s moved to the hospice ward.

Snippet 5:

My oldest brother calls me on a Wednesday afternoon and tells me that Mom isn’t going to make it through the night.

Snippet 6:

I see the sign on Interstate 64 telling me that I’m now leaving the Hoosier National Forest. Later, I take the exit to Evansville.

I arrive at the hospital and enter a hospice waiting room. It’s full of siblings, nephews, and nieces. All told, Mom and Dad had over fifty grand and great-grandchildren. They were there to spend a few moments with Mom. One of my sisters suggests that I sit with Mom for a while. 

The lights in her room have been dimmed. She’s lying there, breathing peacefully. Her red hair is no longer red. No more twinkle in those blue eyes. The frail exterior belies her strong interior. She looks as if she has just completed a half-marathon. 

In that fading frame was the woman that bore 12 children, endured my father’s big ideas, to include two farms, a horse stable, and a strip club. In that frame was the dim light that guided us to adulthood. 

I sit in the chair and take my mom’s hand and I said, “Mom, it’s Kimmer, I’m her.” No one called me that but Mom. I was born Kimberly Mark Neese. For reasons that I do not want to explain, I changed my name to Mark Kimberly Neese. I spoke with Mom and Dad when I changed my name. I explained my reasons. They were so gracious. Having said that, my parents never called ‘Mark.’ It was either ‘Kimberly,’ or ‘Kimmer.”

I hold her hand and in that dimly lit room, on a cold, rainy October evening, my mother stops breathing. 

She had been there for me at my Baptism and First Communion, my two hospitalizations, and had been there to witness my older brother Timmy drag me home, half-frozen during a winter storm. 

She had been there for me to shoo away Feezoff, the hermit that lived adjacent to our property, when he accused us of shooting one of his dogs. 

She had been there for me, sitting in that theater, as we watched Sound of Music for the 5th time. 

She had been there for me, and she stayed up with me, just me, to watch the first man land on the moon. 

She had also been there to smack me for being, in her words, a brat, when I demanded that we watch something other than the coverage of Robert Kennedy’s assassination. 

She had been there for me when I enlisted in the Air Force. She had been there when I went to Bible College in Portland, Oregon. She had been there for me when I moved to Louisville to attend Seminary. And she was there for me when I divorced. 

From the very beginning, she had been there for me, even to witness my first breath.

And now, I was there for her to witness her last. 

I went to the nurse’s station and let them know that Mom was gone. I asked them to tell the rest of the family. I couldn’t. 

We gathered around her and baptized her with our tears. No one requested a prayer, because nothing could have solemnize a life that was pure.  While they prepared her body to be taken away, we gathered in the hall and began making plans for the funeral service. The sadness diminished ever so slightly as we began living our lives the way that Mom would have wanted them lived. 

In those moments, Mom was being resurrected and becoming the reference point between us and everything else.

This is part seven in the Healthy Aging Series, written by Mark Neese, LCSW, BCBA. To see more entries in this series, click here.

Healthy Aging Series: Part Five

Living Is Dying, Or Is It The Other Way Around? | Healthy Aging Series: Part 5

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The first dead person I saw was my Grandpa Pat. I was thirteen-years old. He was sixty-nine. 

We walked past his open casket after the Pentecostal minister preached about heaven and hellfire. He had heard it a thousand times before, mostly from Grandma. Grandpa was unmoved. 

As I grew older, I learned that old people die. The next person in my life to to die was my Grandma Louise. She was sixty-four when she died from colon cancer. Grandpa Jim died at eighty from a stroke. The same for Grandma Lulu. 

Then my sons’ grandparents began dying. Grandpa Al died from a heart attack at seventy. Grandma Barb died at eighty from congestive heart failure. My father died at eighty-two from COPD. And Mom, Grandma Betty, died at eighty-seven from some kind of systemic infection. Old people die. In fact, all people die. 

No matter how healthy you are, no matter how well you prepare for your later years, no matter how much money you have, no matter who you know, no matter what kind of life you’ve lived, you will eventually die.

The issue isn’t if you’re going to die, but how you’re going to die, and by that I don’t mean which illness will you succumb to. I mean, how will you emotionally and psychologically handle the process of dying. How will your death and dying affect others? How well will you divest from this life?  

As a psychotherapist, I often say to my clients. “You die the way you lived.” If you were a generous person in the years leading up to your death, you die a generous person. If you were a comforting and reassuring person, you will die that way.  Of course, this does not apply to the people that suffer from various forms of Dementia, Alzheimer, or other neuro-cognitive disorders. 

People that struggle with living, with the thought of dying and letting go, also struggle with dying. 

Jimmy Carter knew about dying because he knew about living. In his book, “The Virtues of Aging,” he answers the question that he was often asked: What have been the best years of  your life? 

“Now is the best of all,” was his answer. He has lived a full life. He’s ninety-six years old as I write this. If you consider the word ‘dying’ as synonymous with ‘aging,’ he is dying well.

Betty Neese, My Mom

My mom’s favorite word was ‘serendipity.’ “What a nice serendipity,” she would say when we visited unannounced. I’m sure she saw her death as a serendipity. 

Mom was happy, healthy, and non-judgmental most of her life. She was always learning new things and was conversant on almost any topic. She practiced the Golden Rule. She wanted to know what I had been doing since our last visit. I rarely heard her complain, except to hear how she missed my father. 

My mother died well, because she lived well. Living is Dying. 

The evening that she died, I stayed the night in her very small apartment at the senior-living complex. I slept in her bed. The next morning I explored her bookshelves. I looked around the sparse apartment. She didn’t have much. She had already let go of the things that most of us value. I gathered a few books and left.

I remember her memorial service vividly. I was asked to deliver the eulogy, the good words. I talked about all the difficulties that Mom had experienced, including the loss of three children and banishment by her mother for leaving the Catholic Church. I traced Mom’s footprints through her religious journey. I reminded my siblings that Mom (and Dad) loved us all despite our mistakes and bickering. We used to joke about Mom and her Bubble. Very little seemed to shake her. I concluded and said, “Mom didn’t let stupid shit rob her of her peace and joy.” 

Now, I think, we envy her. 

This is part five in the Healthy Aging Series, written by Mark Neese, LCSW, BCBA. To see more entries in this series, click here.

Teens and Suicide

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The local headlines this past month included the tragic loss of a 10-year old boy to suicide. I’m certain that no parent or grandparent ever gets over this. One of the few details that was shared in the Courier Journal was that he was bullied. I want to address the issue of Bullying in a later blog because it affects lots of kids and teens and it’s a very complicated behavior.

Suicide is very rare with children. Not so with Teens.

Consider the current trends:

-In 2016 adolescents and young adults aged 15 to 24 had a suicide rate of 13.15.

-8.6% of youth in grades 9 through 12 reported that they made at least one suicide attempt in the past 12 months.

-Girls attempt suicide twice as often as boys.

-Approximately 1,500 teenagers will attempt suicide in the next 24 hours.

-15.8% of youths in grades 9 through 12 reported that they had seriously considered attempting suicide during the past 12 months.

Teenagers send signals that something is wrong. They tend to be in clusters. If we suspected a teen at risk for suicide because they were sleeping too much, then many teens would be at risk. We are looking for changes in the typical functioning of your teen. We are looking for changes in a cluster of behaviors. These signals indicate that your teen might be at risk.

What are some of the Danger Signs?

–Hopeless comments such as, “nothing really matters,” or “I just want to end it all.”

–Sleep problems including sleeping too much or too little, insomnia, waking up often while sleeping.

-Preoccupation with death such as a fascination with music, art work, or poetry that has morbid themes.

–School problems such as difficulty keeping grades up.

-Signs of depression such as feelings of worthlessness, social withdraw, loss of appetite, increased irritability,  and a “down” expression.

There are events that can increase the likelihood of suicide thoughts or events. These include:

Potential Triggering Life Events:

-The recent loss or threat of loss of a friend or family member through serious illness, death, separation, divorce or change in residence.

I cannot emphasize the importance of calling a counseling center if you are concerned about your son, daughter, grandson or granddaughter. There are things that you can do to help them through these very vulnerable years.

There is a wonderful app called, “A Friend Asks” that I high recommend. It was developed by The Jason foundation. JFI is a nationally recognized leader in youth suicide awareness and prevention. This app is for teens that are considering suicide and for their friends. It help teens help their friends that might be considering suicide. An excellent app.

Here are some numbers that might come in handy. Hopefully you’ll never need them, but please keep them just in case.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

1-800-273-8225

The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention

Afsp.org

The Suicide Prevention Resource Center

Sprc.org