My mother would send a greeting card almost every day. We would even go to a special store where she would get her Italian language cards for someone’s onomastico (name day, which coincided with the Saint everyone (except for me apparently), was named for), birthday cards galore, Holy Day of Obligation cards, holidays and everything in between. They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree but in my case it must have fallen into the yard in another part of the country. I don’t send greeting cards. Will I call someone, or send an email to wish him or her a Happy Whatever? Yes. I know, I know, it’s not the same, but the good thing about growing older, is that we have earned the right to be who we are; whether we are card senders or not.
The other day, however, I decided to “turn over a new card-sending leaf”. I friend of mine was about to turn 60. Yes, dammit, I will send a card. And so begins the search.
“Everyone Gets to Be Young. Your Turn is Over” sounds like it could be a line from the 70’s Sci Fi movie, Logan’s Run, where everyone lived under a pleasure-perfect dome—that is until they turned 30, at which time they were to be annihilated, to keep from growing old. But No. The above “greeting”, and hence the title of this post comes straight from a greeting card! Ehm…Was that supposed to be an uplifting message?
And so I looked further:
After a certain age, your body is like a garage sale—Some stuff looks old, some stuff doesn’t’ work, and some stuff you can’t identify.
60 year olds like to nap, stay warm, and have things done for them—so basically you turn into a cat.
(Picture of a donkey with sunglasses)—Your ass looks good—for 60
Psychologists say you go through 7 stages of adjustment when you turn 50—Denial, Denial, Denial, Denial, Denial, Denial, Denial.
Don’t sweat being 50—nobody likes a sweaty senior citizen
Now I have a sense of humor that rivals the best of them, but as I looked at these cards I wondered what vile undercurrent these messages were really sending to older adults in our society. If you substitute any other “cism” for the ageism in those sayings, you would be horrified, I’m sure. Can you image a card that says “Don’t sweat being _______ (a woman, black, Italian, blind, gay, etc.)—-nobody likes a sweaty ———-?
Having spent a good part of my career investigating he effects of stereotyping on both the people being stereotyped and the ways peoples attitudes toward the stereotyped are formed—I say we stop with the “senior moment” jokes, implying that older people can’t remember things (I don’t know about you but I have been losing my car keys from the time I graduated high school), and stop spending our bank accounts on “anti-aging” potions that make aging seem like a dreadful disease to be stomped out. It isn’t. It is a natural privilege that not everyone (certainly not my late husband) gets to enjoy. But you and I do! And that is why the ageist buck must stop with us.
So I bypassed those cards. In fact, I almost decided to go back to my old ways and not send a damn card at all.
Here’s to aging
Here’s to wrinkles
Here’s to laughing
Till we twinkles (all right, somewhat corny, but so what)
Here’s to the one’s who see us through
Here’s to birthdays
Here’s to YOU.
Well hallelujah. And that is the one I sent.
To all of my Readers, for whatever the occasion– Here’s to YOU!
© Raeleen Mautner, LLC