r/Aging

He is 7 years old and really has an issue with how much he watches, and what he watches.

Last night I had to speak firmly, pull and pry his fingers off of it. I'm the grandma, and I was watching (babysitting) him and his sister.

This is getting ridiculous, and not how I want our relationship to be.

My grandaughter is 10 and will put hers down and away if asked.

Neither of them read any books. Nobody had any school work to do. Just iPads.

My daughter gets offended if I bring it up. It's like she doesn't want to say no to him, not sure why..

Any suggestions?

I’m a low average/ average looking middle aged woman. My whole life I never received a lot of attention from men and was always the one they approached to get a friends number. As I aged obviously this trend continued. Now I noticed my more conventionally attractive friends who are slowly not being paid attention to by men in public. (Stares, cat calls, flirting, buying drinks) are more depressed about the aging process without realizing the reason, and want work done. Not have male attention changes nothing for me but everything to them. It confirms they’re getting old.

When most of us were young children, time seemed to pass more slowly and we often wished things would move faster. As we get older, time appears to speed up. Why does this happen? Can anyone explain this to me?

I live multigenerationally with my wife, mom, sister, and grandmother. She is 77 y/o and still very active (has a whole circuit of chores she does to stay busy, runs many of her own errands), but I am highly concerned about eating behaviors.

I have researched natural bodily changes in older adults and understand that appetite and eating habits can change, but she was recently described as "cachectic" in chart notes during a medical visit.

Access to food is not an issue. She always has ingredients, as well as easily reheatable meals; any of us will always cook for her. She just tells me she's not hungry. I've gone to her doctor with her, and he has encouraged her to drink protein drinks and eat small regular meals.

She is constantly fatigued, has mild cognitive issues (confirmed with neuro-psych not alz/dementia), and has lost a significant amount of muscle mass. Her doctor believes these symptoms will improve with regular eating.

There are a million other details I could add about her personality and such that seem to make this more challenging.

I'm just...sad. I want to do anything and everything to help her. She's always told us she wants to live to 100. Obviously, I know we can't exactly control that, but I feel like she's actively harming herself.

My mom and I are going to seek out support from senior services soon, but I guess I am looking for personal ideas for support, perhaps just commiseration. I do not want to watch her starve herself.

I was out of town for work and was at dinner last night when all of a sudden it was like I was “checking out”. My vision was weird in both eyes like I was looking through coke bottles at my workmates across the table. I could feel myself losing consciousness but never fully did. However as my guys helped me up from my seat I could not coordinate my legs for a bit or put weight on them. I got mostly across the street to the hospital near where we were staying and one of my colleagues ran ahead to get a wheelchair to get me into triage. I started to come back to normal but felt weak. I was cogent again, could walk normally, and tests showed I was basically ok (CT scan of my head, ECG, MD examination). I’m flying home today and will see my physician tomorrow to follow up but I’m scared. I’m a 63 yo F and sort of let myself go after losing my husband 3 years ago, but turned that around starting last year (workout, lost 30 pounds, completely stopped drinking, and quit a highly stressful management role at my job). Hoping someone on here can give a good news story of recovery. I’m a deer in the headlights. Thanks!

How often do you drink it? Me - daily. Once a day, 2tbs.

Someone once asked me, “What is your saddest realization?”

I thought about it for a moment and answered, “That for many men, the first flowers they receive are placed on their graves.”

There’s an old saying: “A man dies twice, once when his heart stops beating, and again when his name is spoken for the last time.”

Another version puts it more bluntly, “A man dies at 25 but isn’t buried until he’s 70.”

Perhaps that’s the saddest part, not death itself, but the slow death that can happen while a man is still breathing. The dreams he quietly abandons. The passions he puts aside. The friendships he loses. The words he never says. The love he never expresses because he keeps telling himself there will always be another day.

And then one day, there isn't.

Maybe that's why I believe flowers shouldn't wait for funerals. Tell a man you appreciate him while he can still hear it. Hug him while he can still feel it. Sit beside him while he can still share the silence.

Because sometimes, the kindest words spoken at a graveside are the very words someone needed to hear while they were still alive.

I turn 51 today.

I have a 26, almost 27 year old daughter, and we had to wait a bit to have her younger sister, 17.

The older sister did get her education, and then immediately became a mom and a year later, a wife. Little out of order, but no big deal. Starting life as their own family. I had hoped she could gain a “foothold” in the world before starting a family, but alas, that was not to be.

Her younger sister is more challenging. Senior in high school, seems unmotivated to do anything with life. Won’t hold down a part time job. Won’t apply herself significantly at school. Has begun experimenting with pot, as it seems teens are prone to do.

Her mother and I were raised so conservatively, and neither of us ever crossed that line. We were strivers, always reaching to do more and get more out of life.

So, when do you as a man just accept that times are different, and that some people will never be as motivated in life?

Not in a "kids these days" way.

I mean something you personally didn't understand until you actually experienced getting older.

What assumption did you have that turned out to be completely wrong?

I'm in my early 60s and have been volunteering with a local nonprofit for close to twelve years. Something I keep returning to is how much it seems to slow things down. Not time exactly, but that feeling of time slipping away that people talk about so much at this stage of life.

There's something about showing up to a town hall, or sitting with a group of neighbors working through a real problem together, that makes the week feel substantial. Like it actually happened, rather than blurring into the next one.

I read recently about research suggesting people born after 1965 are aging faster biologically, and it made me wonder whether the generation that grew up with more structured community involvement had something going for them beyond diet or exercise. Connection to place. A reason to be somewhere specific on a Tuesday evening.

I'm not making a grand claim here. It's just something I notice in myself and in the older volunteers I work alongside. They tend to be sharp and present in a way that genuinely strikes me.

I take pain killers and sometimes use rub which eliviates my back pain but it comes back the next day any ideas ?

At 50+ you suddenly feel every stiff joint and every “I’ll do it later.”
But here’s the truth: a tiny bit of daily strength work gives you your independence back.
More balance, more confidence, more freedom.
And yes — if you try it, it works.

What’s one thing you’re doing to stay strong?

When did it become impossible for parents to toss items which are expired? And the commentary around it still being okay to eat? I understand some seniors have gone through times when the idea of throwing anything away was unheard of doing. But, today in this world, I expect to visit my dad and clean out the expired and truly bad food so he doesn’t get sick.

I see that most of the topics and discussions are about healthy habits and choices. How to live longer and better. But are there any folks in here who don't exercise, don't stress about healthy diet. Smokers? Drinkers?

Or maybe you know someone who actually lived long and seemingly in good health despite all bad habits?

I suppose if death ever comes to take me away, I’d probably have just one question for it, “What took you so long?”

‎I don’t fear death nearly as much as I fear living another day without feeling truly alive. There’s a strange kind of exhaustion that comes from merely existing. Waking up, going through the motions, speaking when you’re expected to speak, smiling when you’re supposed to smile, and quietly carrying things no one else can see.

‎‎Some wounds don’t bleed. They leave no scars on the skin, no evidence for anyone to point at. They simply settle somewhere deep inside you and change the way you see the world, other people, and sometimes even yourself.

‎‎Maybe that’s the cruelest part of being alive, "You can be breathing, functioning, laughing, and carrying on with your day while some quiet part of you has already gone silent."

‎‎So no, I don’t necessarily fear the end.

‎‎What I fear is a life stretched endlessly forward without meaning, connection, or that small spark that makes you feel alive rather than merely here.

‎‎Because death may be the end of a life. But sometimes, long before death arrives, a person learns what it feels like to lose pieces of themselves while still breathing.

And perhaps the real question isn’t, “When will I die?”

‎‎Perhaps it is...

‎‎“How much of me is still alive?”

As you get older, do you speak your mind more, instead of holding your tongue? I seem to be more assertive.