Retirement
Talk for Boomers, Seniors and Retirees
What to
do with the Rest of Your
Life? |
Episode 091 – Aging and Frustration
Two months ago we cancelled our parking space in a nearby
building. We called ahead of time and followed the rules. We turned in the
entry fob and were told we would not be charged for the following month and
that we would get our deposit refunded in full. It didn’t happen. They kept
part of the refund and then charged us again for one more month. They told us
the price had gone up six months past and they had forgotten to charge us and
they had forgotten to tell us. So…we were down about two hundred dollars. Not
enough to get to excited, but definitely not fair. The contract read that they
were required to give us written notification of an increase in rates. They
hadn’t.
This is Retirement Talk. I’m Del Lowery.
Frustration can come in various ways and at odd times. The
question is always what to do when it does work its way into our lives. Of
course, the responses vary – sort of like the reason for the frustration. When
the car parking incident occurred, I wrote it off. It wasn’t fair, I didn’t
like it, but I didn’t want to cause more worry and grief over fighting a
corporation over less than two hundred dollars. My thinking was that we could
end up with bills for lawyers and court costs, and possibly a black mark against
our credit rating. It would also take a
lot of time and attention. I didn’t want to escalate the frustration.
Then I shared the story with my daughter – a lawyer. She
agreed that it was unfair and that she would write a rather legal looking paper
to the corporation and that I could go to my credit union and file a disputed
claim form. My money would be refunded and the corporation would have to get
their money some other way. I just filed the papers. It took a half hour of
standing in line at the credit union. Now I faced the uncertainty of the next
step.
I could console myself with the idea that I did what should
have been done. It feels good to even say that. However, my mind goes to the
possible next steps. I saw collection agencies making calls, writing letters,
filing reports that may reflect on my credit rating. A cloud hung
That’s the way it is with we older folks: we don’t like
uncertainty. That’s why frustration rises. We like to know that the house will
not fall to the foreclosure fire that is burning across America. We
like to know that the retirement check will be deposited regularly. We know
that old age, sickness and death are stalking us, and that is enough of a
burden. All other impediments seem almost silly, but they still cause concern.
Frustration sometimes rises up at the moment we least expect
it. Sleepless nights visit us all too regularly. My mother used to complain
about sleepless nights when she was in her sixties, seventies, and eighties. I
could never understand why. She said that she would lay awake worrying about
one thing or another. Of course, it was always something silly and trivial once
the cause was exposed. She knew that. She would just shake her head and purse
her lips in agreement. However, the sleepless nights continued.
Now that my sixties are fleeting, I understand. Sleepless
nights sneak into my bedroom all too often. Frustration accumulates as the
minutes crawl by. Loren Eiseley use to write about this stuff. He claimed that
it came from our uncertainty about life; or about death; and our own specific deaths.
Nothing philosophical; these thoughts are cast in concrete and very personal.
He entitled one of the books “Night Country”. It has been more than thirty years
since my reading, but on dark nights it still crawls about uneasily in my mind;
that rumbled mind that will not lie quiet and satisfied.
A good friend of mine died within the last month. He was
frustrated right up to the time the powerful drugs administered by the hospice
nurse ended his pain and his ability to speak. Questions persistently emerged:
Why me? Why now? Death was not something he wanted to accept. His doctors had
given him six months at the most to live two years ago. He didn’t accept the
diagnosis. He died; that’s for sure, but I don’t think he ever accepted it
until just before he slipped into unconsciousness.
Frustration comes with self-awareness. I’m not sure there is
any escape. I sometimes think I have it licked by learning to accept those
things I can’t control, but when I’m honest with myself, I know I’m living a
lie. There’s a shadow behind the laugh.
This is retirement talk.