I try not to complain about my aches and pains
all the time. As someone said a while back, when we get together all we talk about are our conditions. I want to stop that. Since I now walk with a cane, I have a “badge”(my cane) that tells people I have disabilities. I wish I did not have to use it. I do not want people’s first impression to be that I am old and disabled, since I do not think I am.
I also do not want to hear about your pain over and over, especially if you do not do anything to ease it.
As people age, they all have pain. It goes with life. There is no pain in death.
I do not want to appear poor, either. There used to be an expression of “genteel poverty” and I like this. I want to live in genteel poverty. It means to me that although I do not have adequate money to live as I used to live, I can still live a genteel life, i.e., a refined, polite, and well-mannered life - a life that allows me, with some budgeting, to experience those things that bring me joy.
Another effort on my part is to distance myself from that “old” way of thinking that I have to have food given to me whether leftovers from a dinner or a Good Samaritan bringing me food especially cooked for me. The first signifies to me a type of greediness or desperation (often from people who are better fixed financially than I and do not need all of this food); the second hints that I cannot take care of myself
adequately because I am old. I beg to differ.
I do not want to be pitied because I am old.
I might be closer to death than I was a decade ago, but I am not dying. I might not live on the income I had a decade ago either, but I am still living and intend to enjoy life the best way I can. I might hurt,
stumble, or sway, but I will still cook, microwave, or snack. And I will be genteel the whole time.