Musings on Becoming Irrelevant 

My Florida family rented a home in my resort community for two weeks. Teenagers now, the grandkids’ are immersed in their generational lifestyle. Friends rule. Family time is enjoyed until teen goings-on beckon.

Their parents’ lifestyle is not a lot different than their kids. With friends who live in the Northeast, a shore vacation offers an opportunity to reconnect and mix fun, sun, and social time.

That leaves the older generation, a.k.a. hub and me. We are tolerated for intervals between teen and grown-up time.

I am not complaining. Anytime spent with the young’uns is a terrific time.

My sister and I spent our childhood summers at my grandparents’ bungalow in the Catskill Mountains. How did we view the adults? Boring, old, un-energetic? Probably. The only athletic-like activity recalled is long walks (or they seemed long to a little girl) along country roads. There were other pastimes spent together – card games, Mah Jongg, trips to the library, and of course meals and nightly bowls of ice cream. 

Fast forward to a 21st-century generation that savors summer break. The kids love to walk to the ice cream parlor to indulge in their favorite dessert, especially when the old folks pay. The old folks enjoy sharing meals with the kids; any meal we don’t prepare is appreciated. The teens link with friends either in person or via electronic means I am only vaguely familiar with. There are additional active activities – old folks uninvited. We are tolerated for brief periods, fleeting moments of connection.

The kids age, we age, and relationships transform. The transition from babysitting grandparent and game companion to spectator and occasional participant is disheartening, a transition not welcomed due to the realization that, on the part of us oldsters, it is one more sign of aging into…extinction? obscurity? irrelevance? invisibility? All of the above?            

I understand why some people want to live in a 55+ community where everyone is on the same page and folks are not regularly reminded of their creeping maturity.

We oldsters may be young at heart, but let’s face it – our faces and our bodies betray us. We chug along, keeping an eye on the kids and watching their energy soar as ours dissipates. And life goes on…