Have you noticed the millennial bashing that’s going on? Here’s just a minuscule sampling of headlines in the press: Millennials are killing off the car industry. Millennials are killing off paper napkins. Millennials are killing off bar soap. Are Millennials killing off wine? How millennial lack of manners is killing off class.
Not long ago, my six-year old grandson took me aback. “Granny,” he asked innocently enough. “Would you do me a favour?” I assumed he wanted another biscuit (cookie) or to watch some more television.
Is pain a growing fear as you age? Is it part of your identity once you pass the sixty gate?
When I was ten years old, a boy swung a shovel with a rusty corner at a bee. I had just stooped down to the ground to pick something up. When I stood up, the shovel’s rusty corner came straight down into the top of my head. I was the pain. The pain was me. I was scared to death as a literal geyser of blood sprung out of my head, drenching my clothes.
For most of our lives, we are taught that getting older is something to be feared. This is especially true for women, who are shown example after example of how society values youth over experience.
They told me one day I would feel old, but I just refused to believe them.
Age 30. Then 40, 50, 60, now 64. Nope, not old. Grey hair. White hair. Thinning hair. Definitely more hair in my ears and my nose than on the growing bald spot on the back of my head. Still didn’t feel old. Besides, that’s what small scissors are for.
A few weeks ago, while I was traveling, I met a lovely woman who is a regular Sixty and Me reader. Let’s call her Jane (not her real name).
When I asked Jane what she thought of Sixty and Me, she gave me a fascinating answer. I want to share it with you here, not because I necessarily agree with her, but, because I have a feeling that some of you may be feeling the same.
When it comes to funerals, many Baby Boomers are literally thinking outside the box.
Of course, that really shouldn’t come as much of a surprise. Those born between 1946 and 1964 have been constantly reinventing most life stages as they have been passing through them. So why should death be any different?
My friend survived another trip around the sun, and I searched for an appropriate birthday card to send her.
I noticed that many cards contained exaggerated, pathetic caricatures that resembled cruel and unusual punishment for still being alive. An entire industry now creates snarky greeting cards and ready-made emails that mock seasoned women. I’m not going to buy or send them.
I swear, since I have lived in Florence, I have aged 10 years!