I’ve Got the Qualified for Medicare Blues

This morning, after I changed my calendars to the new month, I slipped my shiny new Medicare card and my new Blue Shield Medicare prescription card into my wallet. Although my birthday isn’t until next week, the change in health insurance starts today. This is not something I volunteered for. I was perfectly happy with regular Blue Shield. When you turn 65, the U.S. government requires you to switch whether you want to or not. Now I don’t know what is covered and what is not, and I’m not thrilled with the implication that as of today I am old.

Having no children or grandchildren, I don’t have the usual markers of aging. Surely experiences like raising children or watching your daughter give birth mark your progress along the track of life, but that hasn’t happened. No one is coming up behind me with my name and my DNA, nudging me into seniorhood. In many ways, I don’t feel grown up at all. When I see an accurate photograph of myself, I think there must have been a mistake. I get that I’m not the slim, long-haired vixen of 1972, but who is this motherly-looking person staring back at me? And why is she two inches shorter than she used to be? I can tell myself all day long that our bodies are just containers for our spirits, which are ageless, but it’s hard to believe when I’m pretty sure everybody else sees the old woman, not the young spirit. They also think I’m “retired,” but that term is meaningless in my profession.

My birthday, next Thursday, scares the hell out of me. Will I end up celebrating it alone? God, please, not again this year. When I was young and married to a man with a day job, I would typically run away somewhere for the day, a park, a historical monument, a zoo, someplace to explore on my own, then reunite that evening with husband and family for birthday dinner, cake and presents. If this blasted winter weather ever clears up, I could still run away for the day, but there’s no one waiting for me when I get home. That, my friends, is the hell of being childless, widowed and alone.

But nobody knows what’s going to happen in life. I could have had six children and 13 grandchildren and had none of them stick around. Fred could still be alive but not healthy enough to do anything. Or I could be the one who is not healthy and not able to enjoy my birthday. My father will turn 95 on May 1, two months from now. If my brother and I can’t get away from work to make the trip to San Jose, he might be alone, too, despite having two children, two grandchildren and a growing flock of great-grandchildren. You don’t know. Nobody knows.

One of the comments on my recent post about religion noted that the writer believes her life is turning out the way God planned it. I suspect mine is, too. And so will yours. I don’t know if you believe in God or destiny or anything that controls what happens in your life. (Do you? Tell us about it in the comments.) But nobody gives us a copy of the plan, the one that says, at 22, she’ll marry and at 28, that marriage will end in divorce, or at 33, he’ll announce that he doesn’t want kids and you’ll have to decide whether or not to leave him, and you will decide . . . what will you decide?

My therapist, who recently retired, urges clients to do what they’re “drawn to.” In other words, what feels right, what pulls you in, what does your gut say? People ask me what they should do when their partner waffles on the baby question. I really don’t know. I know what I did. Was it a mistake or was that the plan all along?

I know without question that God made me a writer and a musician. I was doing both from a very young age, even though I came from a working class family that did not understand or support the arts. I’m still a writer and a musician with a long history of achievements in both areas. I am not at all sure I could have done those things while raising children. Perhaps I am living the plan, and my solitude at 65 will lead to my best work yet.

Back to you. If you don’t have kids, you could wind up alone. Or you could wind up surrounded by friends, family, stepfamily, co-workers, neighbors, and fans, so many people you wish they would leave you alone. Nobody knows. However it turns out, you will deal with it. Will you regret it if you don’t have children? Yes, sometimes you will. But will there be other rewards? Yes, I’m sure of it.

Because it’s my birthday month, I’m offering you a present. A native American friend of mine has demonstrated the glory of the potlatch, where she showers her friends with gifts on her birthdays. I could never match her generosity, but I am offering a major book sale. For the month of March, you can buy paperback copies of Childless by Marriage, Shoes Full of Sand, Freelancing for Newspapers, and the original edition of my novel Azorean Dreams for $6.50 each, including shipping and handling. That’s less than half price. The first five people to order will also receive a copy of The Dog Ate It, a limited-edition chapbook full of poems and photos about dogs. To order these books at the special price, go to this page at my suelick.com website. Do not go to Amazon.com, where they are still charging full price. This does not apply to my e-books. They are already deeply discounted. Help me clear out the old books to make room for the new ones to come.

Thank you for being part of the conversation here. You are a wonderful gift to me every day of the year.

Childlessness by marriage: It’s a question of timing

A friend told me about a family member of hers who is dating a man who wants to have children. He’s not interested in adoption, only in having a biological child of his own. But she’s 42. She has already had children from her first marriage, and she has had her tubes tied. It’s the reverse of the situation many of us women face. I don’t know these people, but I feel for them. There’s no happy solution, is there?

It comes down to a matter of timing. In the days when most people only got married once and stayed married for life, they would have their children together. Now, with divorce being so common and people delaying marriage into their 30s and 40s, we have men and women who didn’t have children marrying people who have already had them and don’t want any more. Sometimes there’s an age difference, but it’s more often a difference in life experience. Those who are parents lived through the baby-making stage of their lives with other people. If you weren’t doing the same thing, you missed your chance. Maybe you can convince your partner to start over, but he or she would probably rather not. It’s a tough situation.

Your thoughts?

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Thank you for your birthday wishes yesterday. It was a good birthday. It was a little light on the family side, but a wonderful group of woman friends treated me to lunch and showered me with music, cards and gifts. Afterwards, Annie and I took a long walk on the beach. I treated myself to raviolis for dinner and talked to a friend on the phone for over an hour, the way we used to do when we were kids.

I really didn’t miss having children yesterday. I was surrounded by women approximately my age. Most do have children and there was some talk of them, but I have known their children since they were little and I care about them. Now that the kids are grown, their mothers have lots of other things to talk about. In some ways, this was easier than celebrating with children and grandchildren, with whom I would have less in common–and whom I would probably have to feed and entertain. I feel as if I have made a good start on building a community of sisters with whom I can spend the important occasions of my life.

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And the winner is: Now, to the important matter of my birthday book giveaway. The winning commenter is (drum roll) Anonymous Childless by Female Parts. Anon, please email me at sufalick@gmail.com to give me your mailing information and which book you would like: Azorean Dreams (a novel), Stories Grandma Never Told: Portuguese Women in California, Freelancing for Newspapers or Shoes Full of Sand (a memoir).