On Being Old 6 The importance of telling your story

My Mum and I had an awesome relationship. I always felt we could talk about almost anything … and we did … almost …

I often think about her realizing there were conversations we never had and should have. I never remember her talking much about sadness, grief or being in pain. I don’t know if I ever heard her talk about feeling lonely. Is it because, back then, people didn’t talk openly about their issues? Is it because I just don’t remember? Or is it because, at a younger age, I didn’t want to listen?

I remember my brother telling me after she passed that she’d sometimes keep him home from school because she was depressed, crying and didn’t want to be alone. I was shocked. I had no idea she was ever unhappy back then. (It would have been in the ‘60s.) Why wasn’t it me she kept with her? I was the older, the daughter.

Now that I am old and am thinking back, I don’t remember her talking about being in pain (except for the couple times when she’d had to have an operation.) When she got older, her only gripes were with breathing (she’d been a heavy smoker and had COPD) and having either constipation or diarrhea.

When she turned 70, she stopped driving. Not because she couldn’t (that I know of) but because she just didn’t want to. Then, as the years went on, she even stopped wanting to go anywhere at all. Eventually, she wouldn’t even go outside. (And she used to be an avid flower gardener.) I came to believe she was afraid that when she left the house, it’d be the last time.

I think back on all the things I wish we’d talked about. I want to know if her legs ached like mine do today. Did she feel lonely when no one was around? Did she get depressed? Did she feel like giving up? It seemed she stopped caring about all the things she used to love. Did she just get tired of living? Did she no longer feel useful?

Me, I feel I’m whining all the time. Although, in my mind, it’s not only just whining, but also about sharing story. Did my mum go through all this and just bottled it all up inside? Would she be looking down on me now saying, “I told you so.” And yes, I do remember her telling me, “You wait until you’re this age.” Now, I reply, “I hear you, Mum.”

I wonder how things would have been if we shared more of these types of stories. I wonder, if knowing what she experienced, would that help me better cope with my own aging?

One thing I come to believe more and more every day is that sharing life story is important. Listening to one another can be very beneficial in handling life’s ups and down, the celebrations and the sad times.