I’ve been thinking for years about the stage of life we call aging. I want to face it head-on, not hide from it.

There are few helpful guides, and the subject isn’t one the media or our culture wants to dwell on.

Older people have the least buying power in a capitalist culture dominated by greedy and powerful corporations – we won’t be around long enough to buy too many cars, refrigerators, houses, and health plans.

In this country, where money is the national faith, that makes us useless apart from making pharmaceutical and insurance companies getting wealthy beyond imagination.

Advertisers are not lining up to reach older adults apart from selling pills that could, we are warned, give us the heads of golden retrievers.

One of the things that happened to me in this stage of life is that I got to see many of my friends and family members get sick, suffer, and die. The rumors are true. We are living too long and with too little purpose.

One of the good things about aging is that I get to help people in a new and significant way. I love my hospice work and work with the extremely elderly at the Mansion.

I love mentoring refugee students and young writers.  I can help them.

For me, aging has brought by far the most fullness and meaning to my life. I have learned enough, made enough mistakes, and experienced enough to be helpful to people as they grapple with the challenges of being older and living their lives.

My hospice work is as important to me as anything I have ever done. My therapy dogs and I help people leave the world with a smile, grace, and dignity.

My mission is to end life with a smile, an undeniable symbol of empathy and openness.

It’s not easy to watch friends get sick and die or with good people at the end of their lives. It is always sad, but never only sad.

Doing good means feeling good, and that is nothing but a gift. I cherish hearing the stories of people as they prepare to leave the world. I have learned to accept life and death; neither is always pretty.

Yesterday, a friend messaged me about an experience she had just a few days ago. It struck a chord with me and might, I suspect,  with many others:

“I got a text asking if I could come to stay with my friend while her husband took the car to the repair shop. She has multiple serious cancers and needs someone if her husband isn’t there. It was an impromptu, short-notice request I wanted to honor because she rarely asks or abuses the offer. This is becoming more and more a reality in our lives, and it is certainly a different place to be. When it first started happening a couple of years ago, it was, I confess, a little distressing for this to be part of my reality. Now, comfortable. Embracing and accepting the different stages is key. Aging is an “interesting” journey!”

I love the message; my friend is thoughtful and generous by nature.

Like me, she was rattled, perhaps even frightened by the idea of helping friends deal with sickness and death. Then, it became comfortable.

And finally, it helped her to accept the different stages of life in a new way in the Corporate Nation, where death is a taboo never to be discussed, and the elderly are to be silenced and hidden away where no one sees them.

We all lose so much wisdom and purpose when that happens. A farmer up the road told me people should never be far away from animals or older adults. They are the ones, he says,  we can learn the most from.

I appreciated my friend’s message. She has learned that big lesson. Embracing and accepting the different stages of life has been profound for me.

I’ve learned the same thing in the past few years. I’m still learning. Maria and I talk about this often; we are learning together because we may have to deal with it. The truth is our friend.

I understood that I could never understand aging or death if I kept away from people because they were old and dying. I’m not certain I ever stepped foot in an assisted care facility before becoming a hospice volunteer or starting work at the Mansion.

Both are among the best things I have ever done and yes, both have helped me make the transition from avoidance to acceptance. Death is a part of life, and I knew I would never understand the one if I hid from the other.

If I can’t be comfortable with who I am now, then when?

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