And (even unintentional) words can really hurt you!

(Posted by Ron)

Gayle and I don’t often make an issue of our age difference.  This time we did, and didn’t even realize it for quite a while.  The lesson we both learned was that there are times when the words we use can have significant, unintentional age-gap implications.

My dad died at 95 years of age.  Until he broke his hip he remained active.  He and I used to talk about how my siblings would tell him to not do something because he was “too old.”  I remember mom yelling at him to get off the roof when he was in his seventies.  I never felt that way about him. He never seemed “too old” to me.  I knew he was living as he had always lived – with personal freedom.  One picture that will always be in my mind is of him climbing over an old wooden pasture gate to get to his favorite fishing hole.  I was on my way to get the gate key but he had no interest in waiting.  I remember we were visiting to celebrate his 90th birthday.  90 and still climbing over farm gates!  What a guy!  I was so proud of him.

He and I had our last conversation soon after my siblings and I checked him into an assisted living facility. He had broken his hip and it became such a problem he required constant care.  Before I drove back to Texas, he told me he was sure he couldn’t live like that for the six months he thought he would be there.  When I got home the next day I learned he had died in his sleep while I was on the road.  After turning around for the drive back to West Virginia I thought about our conversation only a little more than 24 hours earlier.  I believe he knew he was finished with this life.  I also believe he was OK with that.

Like dad, I decided long ago I was not going to let others’ fears about aging prevent me from remaining active.  I have owned several ladders and been on many roofs.  I have scuba dived, hiked many trails, and climbed Mount Washburn in Yellowstone Park.  I have walked for hours in European cities and Paris museums.  Why should that change?

On December 29th I was installing a motion detector light over our driveway.  One of my daughters had recently been freting about me continuing to climb on roofs and ladders.  I wasn’t thinking about that when I leaned my hinged ladder against the garage roof to install the light.

I’m somewhat of a “do it as quickly and easily as possible” kind of guy.  I needed a drill to attach the light and wanted to consolidate my trips up the ladder.  I tied the drill and light to my belt and put the screws in my mouth. (Don’t laugh.  I come from a family of carpenters and that’s what you do with screws and nails when you are working with them and need another hand.)

I was ready.  With the drill and light swinging from my hips and the screws in my mouth I climbed the ladder.  I was about seven feet up and was lifting the light to mark the drill holes when I heard the ladder crack!  Before I could even think about getting off, the hinges gave way and I started down.

I rode the ladder down.  It doesn’t take long to fall seven feet but it seemed like forever.  I knew I was about to hit the driveway.  My weight came down on my left foot and I collapsed down on my butt, arms, and back.  Somehow I managed to keep from bouncing my head on the driveway or swallowing the screws.  I remember my first thought as I lay there was,  “I hope none of the neighbors saw that.”  Dumb, huh?  Since I didn’t know how badly I was hurt, if at all, I should have been hoping that someone was on their way to help me.  But no one saw me.

My next thought was to take inventory of my body.  Earlier in the year, my brother and sister both broke their hip.  I feared the worst, but was amazed that nothing was obviously broken.  I crawled out of the wreckage of the ladder.  I soon began to feel pain in my ankle and was off to the emergency room.  The x-ray showed no break, but it was severely sprained.  They sent me home with a few vicodin and an Ace bandage.

It is almost ten months later.  For several weeks I wore a boot (just a new fangled cast if you ask me), compliments of my orthopedic surgeon.  My ankle is still weak and sore and I have a large selection of ankle braces.  I’ve sprained my ankles many times over the years but never had to wear braces for so long.  Clearly the length of time it takes me to heal is increasing with the length of time I’ve been on the planet! I am reminded of my concerns and fears about aging.  I’m working hard to not dwell on them, but I often find myself struggling with anger, fear, and sadness.  There are so many things yet to accomplish in my life and I don’t want to be hampered by my physical condition.  During this battle I have not always been kind to myself.  I feel the pains in my joints and ankles and tell myself I shouldn’t feel this way.  It has been and sometimes continues to be difficult to accept this “new” body.  It may be 65 years old but my spirit is still much younger.

Gayle referred to this incident as “when Ron fell off the ladder.”  I kept correcting and reminding her “the ladder broke.”  We had several arguments about it until I was finally able to realize for myself and tell her what I was feeling.  Each time I heard her say that I “fell off the ladder” my interpretation was “you are getting too old to…” Even after 22 years of marriage we still have situations in which the intention of our words do not equal their impact.  That sounds like most relationships, though, doesn’t it?

She wasn’t thinking I was “too old.”  She was simply describing what happened in her own words.  There is a common concern that age-gap relationships won’t work because the older partner will eventually become a burden to the younger partner.  That’s no more true than any other generalization about relationships.  For a short while, however, even I let those concerns frighten me.

We learned something else from my fall.  Had I been younger, it wouldn’t have mattered whether I fell or the ladder broke – it would have been considered an unfortunate accident.  Neither I nor anyone else would have related it to my age.  When an older man has an “encounter” with a ladder it’s often blamed solely on his age, regardless of the true circumstances.

Remember the wooden pasture gate?  When my dad was hindered by an obstacle he went over it.  He didn’t stop and question whether or not he could or should do it, he just did it.  He also made up his mind when he was finished with facing the obstacles of daily living.  When he was ready to stop, he did.  I’m not ready to stop and I suspect I won’t be any time soon.  Today it no longer matters to me how we describe the fall.  It was indeed – just an unfortunate accident.  But, I sure do wish my ankle would hurry up and heal.

By the way, I bought a really cool twenty foot extension ladder.  It will not break under me!