Early in my career working with older adults, it was my strong belief that if a person needed help, and we were able to offer it, it should be provided.

However, several times our efforts were not met with acceptance. There was the senior who refused home delivered meals even though, after his hospitalization, he was unable to shop and cook for himself. And the single woman with a recent dementia diagnosis who did not want to share it with anyone. And the gentleman who had fallen many times and had been hospitalized for his injuries, refusing to use a walker.

Discussing the benefits of our suggestions did not convince them.

If you are anything like me, your mailbox and email in box are filled with statements every month.

They arrive for credit cards, banks, investments, utilities, service providers, and more.

If you want to stay on top of them, it is easily a multi-hour a week job to review charges, reconcile bank statements, examine quarterly returns, and track utility usage. It all takes time, focus, and patience.

Some of us were born to enjoy this type of work. My husband, who is a CPA, might not say he fully enjoys it, but he is comfortable with it and knows what to look for.

However, as we get older, even the most detailed oriented of us may experience challenges.

I recently attended a celebration of life for an acquaintance. She was a lovely woman who lived a full life filled with family, close friends, travel, and lots of fun and adventure. 

She was also a very giving person. Her wish was for her friends to come and select things that had meaning to them from her possessions. Before and after her passing, her generosity to charitable organizations was remarkable. She made it a point of letting folks know, “You can’t take it with you.”

At the service, friends came to the podium to share stories of their deep friendship and times together. Her niece read from her aunt’s travel journals, detailing adventures from all over the world.

By all accounts this person led a good life, maybe even a great one.

My husband Peter has been working from home for quite some time now. Mid pandemic he joined a new firm in a remote job. His company is headquartered in New York City.

Unlike me, he’s the kind of guy that can go all day crunching numbers and talking to workmates on Zoom, never seeing a human in the flesh, unless you count waving to the Amazon delivery driver.

Being at home each day has afforded him the opportunity to listen to the inner workings of our household systems. In particular, he kept telling me that our water heater was running 24/7, wasting energy, and it was loud.

According to the U.S. Energy Information Administration (EIA), the majority of natural gas used in homes is for space heating, which includes both air and water.

One night we’d invited some friends for dinner.

My friend, a fellow solo-ager (older adult without children), recently asked me some provocative questions.

They were, I think, a sign of the times that people are broadening their thinking around what’s important.

She began by sharing a recent article in the New York Times about individuals who bequeathed assets upon their death to friends rather than family. She asked me what I thought of that concept.

I explained that my best friends have ebbed and flowed through the years and have changed as my life circumstances have.  Friends from school

Here’s a question for you, what do I have in common with Madonna, Ellen DeGeneres, and Jamie Lee Curtis?

How about Kevin Bacon, Alec Baldwin, and Drew Carey?

If you guessed that we are all turning 65 this year, you would be right. 

All of us, along with another 3.65 million Americans will become - wait for it - senior citizens.

Fortunately for me, I work in the senior service industry and have been anticipating this for quite some time. However, for many of the millions who will turn 65 this year, there may be some fear and unease.

For those of you on the brink of this magic age, let me start with some good news. 

If you are feeling very good or very bad these days, it may be due to the recent rains.

Take it from two musical camps. In his hit “Laughter in the Rain,” Neil Sedaka croons “Ooh, how I love the rainy days, and the happy way I feel inside,” while The Carpenters declare “Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.”

How can one simple form of precipitation have such a diametric effect on people?

I’ve had time to contemplate these conflicting feelings, as we watch more than our normal share of rainfall.

Let’s start with the bad news first. Why would the presence of rain make us feel bad?

My mother’s recent visit from New Hampshire was one of the highlights of my year thus far, but I can’t help but feel some guilt as I look back upon her stay.

Before she came, I was committed to finding the perfect balance between making her visit enjoyable and special, while at the same time respecting that at 88 years of age she needed some rest, too.

Prior to seeing me, she spent a week with my sister in Del Mar. They dined out, went shopping, visited with friends, got a manicure, and toured San Diego Zoo Safari Park.  

A week later, my mother arrived at my house with my sister and her husband, the day before the Senior Concerns gala.

Attending the gala was fun and exciting for my mom, but also exhausting. She stuck to the couch the next two days, recovering from overstimulation and a very late night.

Restaurant dining has always been a joyful experience for me.

In terms of aesthetics – at lunch, I enjoy the respite from my workday and at dinner, conversations with my husband or friends.

Regarding the food, in both cases I like trying new dishes as well as appreciating old favorites.

But in these last few years, something has changed with regards to my dining out; the amount of food I eat during those meals.

There was a time I could eat a whole sandwich at lunch or a full plate of pasta for dinner. Now, as I search menu options, I look for cups of soup, smaller appetizer portions, side salads or half orders of pasta.

Primary care providers are hard to come by

In the past five years I have had four primary care physicians. No, I am not a difficult patient, I am the product of changing dynamics in the practice of primary care.

Five years ago, I had a primary care physician I really liked. She listened to me and provided good quality care.

However, she was struggling. As the healthcare industry shifted to volume-based care, it limited her ability to offer a quality experience for her patients. She was challenged with rising operating costs, a larger administrative burden, and cuts in insurance reimbursement. 

So, she decided to “go concierge.”