Contemplating retirement

Talk to me about getting old and dying

Anne3 Comments

This month, I’ve spent hours talking with friends and family about getting old and dying. It’s such a fun topic when you’re on holiday. Yet, discussing ageing and death is now part of the narrative of my life. At 68, if the media interviewed me, I would be considered an “elderly retired grandmother”. Not that I feel like that. When I was a young mum, I talked about babies and toddlers. Then I lamented with anyone who would listen about wayward teenagers. After those teenagers became adults and left, I discussed work. Now that I’m retired many conversations are around planning holidays, grandchildren, the state of the world, getting old, and death. It’s a bit like the Organ Recital, where we oldies discuss our ailments.

I understand ageing and dying are challenging topics, but I’m both surprised and saddened at the lack of preparation that many people put into this journey. It seems to me that they would prepare more for a long weekend away.

Here are three big questions that I think we need to ask ourselves:

Where am I going to live?

Most people want to age in their own home. I certainly do. What does this mean though? Does it mean staying in the house you raised your children in, or does it mean moving to a home that is more suitable for this time of your life? If you choose to stay in your home, are there alterations you can make to maximise your ease and enjoyment?  Perhaps it’s as small as installing grab rails or as big as moving the laundry upstairs. It’s a challenge managing the conflict of wanting to stay as active and independent as possible, while also preparing for an unclear future.

My 92-year-old father-in-law and 90-year-old mother-in-law live independently in their family home. They have made some alterations like adding a step elevator for the front steps and installing grab rails and a bidet in the bathroom. They have help in the garden and a cleaner. Their home remains perfect for them, close to family and the community they have lived in all their lives. However, I decided I needed to move after falling down my internal stairs four years ago and breaking my ankle. I no longer wanted to live in a two-storey house on a steep block. Now we live in a flat-on-the-ground house which gives me easy access to the outside. I am more active here than I was in the other house. We only moved 600 metres, so we too are still in our community. 

When did you last walk through your house and really look at it, thinking about how suitable it is for the next stage of your life? The thought of making changes or moving is anxiety-provoking but not as distressing as having to quickly make important life decisions in a health crisis.

The reality is, many of us are likely to need help if we want to age in place, whether it’s someone to do the gardening, cleaning, laundry, make beds, provide meals, or help with transport. I’d rather accept some help in my own home than be in an aged care home.

Here’s the link to Australian aged care services: Access Australian aged care information and services | My Aged Care

and a New Zealand link: Help in your home | New Zealand Government

Who’s going to make decisions about my health if I can’t?

Od age: who's making decision about your health?It’s unimaginable that I won’t be able to make decisions for myself, but I have seen the consequences of not planning for this possibility. At 65 years old, a friend had a stroke and was unable to make decisions for himself. After an initial hospital stay, he was moved to an aged care home. His family and friends had to make an application to the Guardianship and Administration Tribunal, so a guardian to manage his affairs could be appointed. Until this happened no major decisions could be made about his assets, and funds needed for his care were limited. My friend also had to be medically assessed as not having the capacity to make important health and personal decisions as evidence for the tribunal. These stressful and lengthy medico/legal processes would have been avoided had he prepared an Enduring Power of Attorney when he was well. 

An Enduring Power of Attorney is a legal document where you appoint someone to make decisions on your behalf if you are unable to. This person is called the Attorney.  While you are well you can choose who will best be able to manage your health care and assets, including paying bills and selling real estate. This is an important decision and if there is no one you know who can undertake this role then you can appoint the Public Trustee.

Imagine how stressful it would be for friends and family if you did not have an Enduring Power of Attorney, and they were unable to act rapidly in your best interests in a crisis.

What’s going to happen to all my stuff when I’m dead?

Old household items on a trailerWe all have “stuff”. It seems to accumulate no matter how many clean-outs we have. Some of that “stuff” is valuable, like your home, financial investments and other assets. I’m sure family and friends will select sentimental mementos when I’m gone, but they won’t want most of my chattels and I’m ok with this. However, although I plan to spend as much of my money as I can before I die, I do want to choose who will receive any remaining financial assets. The best way I can ensure this will happen as I wish is to make a Will.  

A Will is a legal document that states who will receive your property and possessions after you die.  At least one person must know where your Will is. This is usually someone that you have appointed as Executor during the process of making the Will.  Here are a few links to Wills but get legal advice.

Online will kits compared | CHOICE

About wills | Queensland Public Trustee

NZLS | Making a Will and Estate Administration

I’m off to nag the younger adults in my life.

Preparing for aging and dying doesn’t start when you’re old. In fact, it’s more important to plan when you’re young. If you’ve got kids or have a home, then you better have an Enduring Power of Attorney and a Will.  Imagine if something happened to you and grieving children and spouses didn’t know your wishes. A hard time made unnecessarily more difficult.

What are you doing, or not doing, to plan for getting old and dying?

P.S. I’m well and healthy!!

Postscript:  I friend on Facebook made this comment and I thought it was worth adding

The lawyer in me says to look over your wills every few years to check they reflect the changes that occur in your lives and update if necessary.
It’s also important to have an Advance Health Directive (sometimes known as a living will) which outlines your preferences for care and medical procedures/interventions and appoints someone to make decisions regarding your health on your behalf, in the event you lose capacity to do so yourself.
Again like a will it should be reviewed every few years or if circumstances change.
Good on you Anne for raising this topic!

Embracing the Organ Recital

Anne2 Comments
  1. When old people gather (and I don’t mind being called old because I am, and the alternative is worse) it often starts as an organ recital. We update each other on our aches and pains, and how our bodily parts are functioning. For me this year it’s been about heart, hip and head, so I’ve had lots to contribute.

At first, I resisted these conversations, sure they would lead to boring diatribes. Do we have nothing better to discuss? I’d rather hear about a show you’re going to or your next trip away. I want to know your thoughts about what’s happening in the world or a great book you’ve read. Do I really want to hear about your ailments?

Yet now I have embraced the organ recital and thank the acquaintance that introduced me to the phrase. I look forward to updates on my friends’ health and what they are doing to stay well. I also share my health worries and am thankful to my friends for listening and supporting me.

Sharing the Expertise

I relish what I learn from these conversations. I got tips from a friend who has bladder problems and swapped my last black tea of the night, for an herbal one. Now I’ve had some nights where I’ve slept through, without having to get up to pee. This is a small miracle in my life. Caffeine irritates the bladder. I didn’t know this.

I introduced a friend, who had ghastly blocked sinuses and associated hearing loss, to sinus rinses.  Her relief was immediate. She’d never heard of them and now calls me Dr Anne.

When my body starts to falter, I know there will be someone who has something similar. Us oldies also know which specialists are the best in the area and who to avoid.

Keep the Organ Recital Rhythm

Of course, these could be dreadful conversations.  So here are my suggestions when you’re meeting up in a social group:

  • Keep it short and stay focused on what action can be taken
  • Don’t hog the conversation
  • Check with your doctor, not everyone plays the same tune or hears the same song.

Do you love the picture?

This was my first foray into AI.  I asked it to make me “body organs playing music” and this is what it produced. I am amazed. What do you think?

Hello friends, it’s me writing again

Anne3 Comments

It’s been two years since I last wrote a blog, but here I am. Now I’m inspired and encouraged to write again. I’m rediscovering that writing can be fun.

University of the Third Age in Brisbane (U3A)

I joined the University of the Third Age in Brisbane (U3A) when I retired. It’s a wonderful organisation run by volunteers that encourages lifelong learning for those of us who are in active retirement. Check it out. The Brisbane group has over 3,000 members and I’m amazed by how many courses they offer. They have many sites across Australia.

I participate in a U3A discussion group called “Dangerous Ideas”. We cover an array of topics including the pros and cons of nuclear power, transgender athletes, electric vehicles, whether we need a bill of rights and, are we a divided country. I enjoy the lively and stimulating discussion, but the best outcome of my attendance was connecting with two other writers and being invited to join their writing group. What an unexpected gift.

The Writing Group

Now I meet with a group of new friends twice a month for coffee, laughter, inspiration and writing. They have been meeting together for over five years and originally met through U3A.  At first, I felt like an interloper, but they welcomed me warmly and I now feel like part of the group – albeit a newbie. I am impressed by the stories they can conjure up in 20 minutes while I fight the blank page for something to write.

What Will I Write?

Writing space
Say hello to my messy writing space

I have a novel loosely rolling around in my head. When I started writing Not Forgotten: They called me Number 10 at Neerkol Orphanage I anticipated writing it in a novel form, but Samilya’s story was too horrific and important to fictionalise. Researching and writing the book was gruelling, and by the end, I had no interest in writing. Now I think it might be fun to play with writing that novel.

After joining the writing group, I entered a couple of writing competitions, Furious Fiction and Not Quite Write. I have even been long-listed twice with Furious Fiction.  The competitions are such fun. You receive prompts on Friday night and have until Sunday night to submit and write a 500-word story.  That’s what got me writing again.

I’m also inspired by my friend who I wrote about in Brave Enough to Dance for Your Man.  She has been sending a reflective blog out once a week to her friends. Her discipline and commitment to writing spurred me on.

So, I’ll play with reigniting this blog and see where it leads. I’m not sure that blogs are in vogue anymore. Steven, my husband, suggests I make TikToks instead, but that seems a dance move too far for me!

Continuing to Learn

Now I’m plodding through a Udemy course – How to Write and Publish a Novel. The recommended text, Writing Fiction for Dummies, by Randy Ingermanson and Peter Economy, is incredibly useful and provides me with a pathway to writing my elusive novel.

I also have to relearn how to use this WordPress site. Some things have changed, and I’ve forgotten how it all works. AI keeps asking me if I want some help – do I?  I don’t even know how AI works.

I know that each post comes with at least one frustrating technical challenge!  If you’ve read this then it means I’ve successfully climbed that first technology mountain.

Take care and be kind to each other.

Anne

Leaving behind the psychologist’s chair

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Sliding out the back door

It was quiet in the practice on Wednesday evening, some of my colleagues were away, and others were working behind closed doors. I finished my last session at 7 pm, closed my trusty laptop, picked up my raggedy pad with scrawled notes, untangled the cords to my old-fashioned earphones, and packed my bag. Took my favourite green teacup to the kitchen, said goodnight to Millie who was managing the reception desk and slid out the backdoor.

I left behind the psychologist’s chair, its contours will be warmed by someone else, but no longer by me.

Tears slid down my face as I drove the 10 minutes to my home. That was it, I’d retired. I’d finished my career as a psychologist. Who was I now?

Gruelling goodbyes

I was only working two days a week but those last 20 sessions in the final fortnight were gruelling. Every session was a heartfelt goodbye. It was like putting unfinished books back on the shelf, but therapy is often like that. This time though I knew that the clients could not return.  I would not witness chapters yet to be told or future chapters of their lives. I’d worked intensely with these wonderful people, some for many years and knew their hopes and dreams. I knew what held them back and I had to let them all go.

The tears that escaped only hinted at the turmoil within me. Grief, joy, fear, hope, regret, and relief whirled within me but were mostly contained during those last sessions. I hugged clients, shook hands, patted backs and, accepted gifts, letters and cards. “Goodbye, go well, take care” I whispered. I hoped I would bump into them in the street some time, but I have rarely seen clients outside the therapy room. Floundering for the final words, nothing I said felt enough.

I will miss the laughter

A friend asked what would I miss most when I stopped being a psychologist, and I surprised myself when I said “the laughter”.  The laughter of therapy is like no other.  We expect tears in therapy but not laughter and yet they come from the same deep well of emotions.  I will miss those moments when a client suddenly laughs at what they are saying or thinking. It’s not a dismissive or condescending laugh, Nor is it an avoidant laugh. Rather it seems like a ray of sunshine, giggling with the delight of new knowledge. The joyful newness of discovering a new way of being.

How I will miss those clever, ironic and humorous comments made by clients when they suddenly understand a part of themself. I rarely laugh as deeply and with such compassion in my “real” life.

You’ll find me drinking Bloody Marys in my PJs

My son, daughter, and daughter-in-law celebrated my retirement by gifting me a bottle of vodka, Bloody Mary mix, lemon juice, a glass, and PJs. The Bloody Mary tradition was born while living in Papua New Guinea for eight years. I would board the plane to leave and order a Bloody Mary.  It’s become our family marker of travel and transitions.  Is this what they think I’ll be doing with the rest of my life?

Therapy is an act of love

While part of me still longs to do the therapeutic work I no longer want to sit inside a closed room for many hours of the day. I want to be free to create (perhaps to write another book), to enjoy the sun on my face. and perhaps to do nothing much at all.

I want to re-connect with the people I love but have not seen enough of.

For me, therapy has been an act of love. A love full of respect, safety, caring, boundaries, vulnerability, growth and hope. Therapy has often included raging against the injustices of the world.  I will find ways to maintain both love and rage.

I have such gratitude for the wonderful, inspiring and insightful clients and colleagues with whom I have shared my therapeutic journey. Thank you.

A bookend to my career as a psychologist

Anne7 Comments

I mourned my anonymity.

I met June Stevens 35 years ago at the beginning of my journey to become a psychologist, and now I have four weeks until I retire. I was 30 years old, newly married, and had just moved from Sydney to Nowra on the South Coast of New South Wales. Nowra was the smallest community I had lived in and I felt uncomfortable with my newly discovered public visibility. People I met immediately placed me on the correct branch of the Moorhouse family tree – “Oh you’re Rhonda and Arthur’s youngest son’s wife! “Are you Owen or Arthurs’s new daughter-in-law?” “We heard Jenell had a new sister-in-law”.

I felt both welcomed and alienated by strangers deftly placing me in the family system. It was as if they knew something I wasn’t privy to. For the first time I understood why people dressed up to go to the supermarket as I would undoubtedly run into some matriarch of the community there. For a while, I felt unable to pop down to the shops in my favourite daggy t-shirt and shorts. I mourned my anonymity.

Free University

The move to Nowra was part of our plan to start a family. After we made the decision, I discovered that I was eligible to go to university – for free! As a teenager in New Zealand, I failed the equivalent of grade 12 and university was wiped as an option for me. In Sydney, I had just completed a Diploma in Personnel Management – 2 nights a week for 3 years through the TAFE system, while working full time. I was bursting with pride at this achievement.

Completing the course unexpectedly provided me with entry into university and 6 months off my degree. Even though I was a New Zealander I was still eligible for the free study, and I was even eligible for a student payment as I’d only gotten married that year. I would lose it the next year as a “wife”!  The girl who failed school could go to university. So after we moved to Nowra I made the 160 km round train trip to Wollongong university, 3 times a week and began studying psychology. Thank you, Gough Whitlam

June, and the Lifeline Telephone Counselling course

I only knew my husband’s family in this small town and had limited time and opportunity to make friends. I was definitely lonely. I discovered the Lifeline Telephone Counselling course was offered in Nowra. The course lured me with the hope of real-world experience to accompany my academic studies and access to a community of like-minded people. I’m sure the confidentiality and secrecy surrounding being a Lifeline telephone counsellor was also part of the attraction.

June Stevens was the course facilitator.  Even though she knew all the Moorhouses, I felt seen by June. It was June who taught me how to listen. It was June who introduced me to the unconditional positive regard of Carl Rogers. It was June who facilitated my unexpected self growth through the course. It was June who infused my heart with empathy and respect for others which I carried forward. My clients and I benefited from June’s work.

A bookend to my career as a psychologist

90 year old woman holding book Not Forgotten: they called me number 10 at Neerkol orphanageI left Nowra 30 years ago and have not seen June on my visits back. My parents-in-law see her regularly and I know I have been a topic of conversation. Last week, a month out from my retirement, my book Not Forgotten: they called me number 10 at Neerkol orphanage was given to June, who is now 90 years old. The book is the culmination of my career as a psychologist and provides a wonderful bookend to my career. It gives me great pleasure to see the finale of my life as a psychologist held by June, who was present way back in the beginning. I hope she sees the ripple of her work through the pages.

 

 

Active, Balanced and Connected – and over 60!

Anne5 Comments

Road sign enjoy at 60 - active balanced and connectedWe celebrated my brother’s 60th birthday with Takaro Trails three-day self-guided cycling tour of the Hawkes Bay in New Zealand. There were four of us over 60, and one young man of 59, my husband Steven.  While laughing, riding and celebrating life “active, balanced and connected” became my mantra for healthy ageing.

Active

Riding through the Takaro Trails I contemplated the opportunities in my life to remain active.

Keeping my mind active will be easy, I hope. I love to read, listen to podcasts, write and play computer games. Social injustice still fires me up and I’m curious about the world. I delight in talking to young people and discovering their views. Even though my adult kids roll around the floor laughing at me, I enjoy learning new technology and embrace social media. I still work part-time as a psychologist and I remain committed to my professional development. I’m inspired by the hopes and dreams of colleagues and clients.

cyclists on track active balanced and connected.Keeping my body active will be more of a challenge. Despite this bike trip, and that I also rode the Otago Rail Trail, I’ve never particularly enjoyed exercise, yet I know how essential it is. I do enjoy an easy cycle at the weekends and have sometimes regularly ridden my bike to work.  I dabble in a bit of yoga, and I particularly like Yoga with Adrienne’ videos. Some mornings I manage to get myself out for a walk. My most active engagement in group exercise was through NIA dance and exercise classes. I kept that up for two years and will probably return to the welcoming group. Pottering in the garden brings me great pleasure and is another of my active pastimes. I purposefully increase my incidental exercise too, often parking Continue reading →