Sunday 5 June 2011

5th June 2011

Yesterday my wife told me that I was looking old.

Challenged, I responded quickly by pointing to my fashionable clothes, my Converse Sneakers, my Ray Bans, my flat stomach and my record collection. All, I thought, incontrovertible evidence of a 'dedicated follower of fashion' entering his later years fashionably.

'No' she replied, 'it's the unshaven look, you appear to have stopped shaving'.

Clearly the Ryan Giggs five day shadow has slipped out of favour in our house.

Immediately I popped up to the bathroom and applied the Mach 3 to my facial hair, indeed to the whole of my head apart from my upper lip, no hair transplant for me, and returned to be greeted by a welcome, that's an improvement but not a resounding, you're looking younger.

Later, fishing with the grandchildren, I was exhorted to take care, the river bank was slippy after the rain, I suppose they didn't want to have to dive in and rescue me, after all I had to drive them home!

Of course each of these moments was a reminder that I, like everyone else of my age and my generation, am getting older. The baby boom has reached the autumn of its trajectory through time and space. The children of the sixties have reached their sixties.

Anyone working with older people will be continually struck by the richness of memories and experience that go to make up their individual stories.

There is a wisdom available, sieved through the shared memories of and in any work with older people which is the quiet reflective engagement which allows people to work at their memories, their hopes and fears, their pride in children and grandchildren, their relationships with neighbours, attempting, where possible, to reflect on and make sense of their lives and life in their final years, as an integrated whole.

The problem is that older people are now a cause of concern for the public finances. Political rivalry and differences between the parties has resulted in good solutions being proposed and rejected and bad solutions being brought forward and then found to be unworkable and quietly dropped.

As a child of the welfare state I imagined that as a pensioner I would fare well enough in my dotage, but not so.

I have been involved in elder care for most of my time as a vicar in the Church of England. As a curate I was the youngest member of the local Derby and Joan Club. In the church itself congregations tend to be older than the population at large. Then there is communion and visiting to the homes in the parish or the alms houses where the older members of the community lived. When I lived in the States I was hired by a congregation to take communion to the 'Shut-Ins'. In time I became a committee member at national level of two Housing Associations offering elder care and even briefly a Chaplain in a care scheme run by the Methodist Housing Association.

Knowing how the finances of these schemes worked, usually relying on some form of public subsidy, I could never understand how the financial model used in the private sector, could ever produce a profit.

The latest story to hit the headlines of course makes it clear.

One such private company, using a sale and lease back model, which charges around £2000 a month for its accommodation, is now in trouble. It's directors sold their shares recently for a handsome profit and now the companies residents are worrying about their future.

My wife's stepmother lived in sheltered housing, she once told me with a strong sense of wonder that beneath the residential home were a network of tunnels. She turned to her elderly neighbour for confirmation of the truth of her claim. 'Why', responded the neighbour, 'are you planning to escape?'

But of course there is no escape.

Elder care is rapidly becoming a rock on which much of the welfare and health care budget threatens to founder. Everyone is looking for a way to escape the forth coming collision.

There is, despite the sub-title of this Blog nothing wry about getting older and I can't do much better than quote from Martin Amis's most recent book, The Pregnant Widow.

Old age wasn’t for old people. To cope with old age, you really needed to be young – young, strong, and in peak condition, exceptionally supple and with very good reflexes. Your character, too, should be of no common stamp, but should blend the fearlessness of youth with age-old tenacity and grit.

He said, ‘literature, why didn’t you tell me?’ Old age may bring wisdom. But it doesn’t bring bravery. On the other hand, you’ve never had to face anything as terrifying as old age.

So I guess there's nothing for it, shave more often, take care on slippy river banks and keep taking the tablets.

And at least I've got the new Blondie album to look forward to and after that, well I'm sure I will think of something ............


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