Admitting the Truth

The expression admission ranges anywhere from access to affirmation. The price of admission (even with a senior discount) may be too expensive. Admitting the truth can also be too painful. The senior moment we want to discuss is admission, which ranges from confession to confirmation. Both at times can be difficult.

Many adults shy away from admitting guilt, confessing faults, acknowledging failings or making allowances. Some seniors are so cocksure of their competence that their juniors and peers are driven away. Others are hardly prone to confess anything, particularly their sins and shortcomings. Still others, perhaps a lesser number, are unwilling to make allowances.

We are not sure why it is exactly that some are reluctant to admit that their hearing isn’t what it used to be. Or sight. Or reflexes. Before I had hip surgery (total replacement), our son cautioned his mother to keep me off stepladders. Why? My balance isn’t what it once was. Now, this restriction has come in handy more than once. Even after surgery, my balance ain’t what it usta be. I also wear glasses (for reading, mostly), and either people are speaking more softly or mumbling or my hearing isn’t what it was. It happens.

It’s ironic that adult children often have to take away the keys to the cars of their parents before they kill themselves. Or someone else. It would be much preferred to admit that driving at night for some is sheer folly and daylight driving might be nearing lunacy. Admitting as much is often procrastinated, or worse, denied. Why seniors tend to shy away from admitting certain deficiencies is understandable. It happens, not only to seniors but to others. Athletes often hang on too long. Singers warble past their peak. CEOs can outlive their usefulness and professionals sometimes fail to quit soon enough. We seniors should learn from this that admitting certain deficiencies is not necessarily a symptom of aging and weakness but an emblem of strength.

Admitting and accepting fragility in a timely manner ought to be fashionable and virile, not abnormal and impotent. In fact, it can be quite self-fulfilling to toss in the towel. It is tough being competitive when the competitive juices no longer flow freely. There are times when it is infinitely better to give the next generation a chance and not stand in their way. After awhile, competitiveness (of any kind) can be an unnecessary burden.

Not being able to drive anymore may mean no more soccer-mom roles for granny. Letting our grandkids format our VCRs and DVDs should not be an embarrassment but a feather in their caps. Letting someone else figure out the ways and means isn’t all bad. And playing golf without a scorecard could be a better way to play. But alas, this all could lead to becoming indolent, unnecessarily dependent on others, smug and even callous. Not doing what we can’t do or shouldn’t do isn’t license to exploit those nearby.

There are many alternatives at our disposal including our wisdom and experience, and even our pocketbook and excess furnishings, books, tools and recipes. Yet using these to con others in servant hood is both unwise and counterproductive. Ah yes, the luxury of admitting our frailties, although fraught with danger, can be a blessing, not a curse. We, not others, must decide what it’ll be.