AGING TRAVEL WITH GRANDY

Aging travel with 70 and 80 year olds is getting some attention.

How hard it is, how easy it used to be, and how it feels losing the magic of new places.

How do you manage it when you’re in your 60’s and your mother in law in her 80’s.

The short version: if they want to go, you go.

We’ve traveled together many times:

Judy, born and raised in England, was independent, had more travel experience than anyone I knew, and was ready to go all the time.

She toured a devastated Europe with her aunt soon after the closing of WWII, which I think helped her decide to move to America after she got married.

She’s been to South America, Mexico, and Canada from her home base in Los Angeles, along with many trips to Great Britain.

Her biggest regret was not going on a safari in Africa.

If she’d had a chance to go into space, she would have.

 

 

Three of us went to Spain together for an aging travel experience.

The whole idea made me nervous.

I didn’t want to be the one who lost their mother in law in Barcelona.

 

Herding Cats

If anyone is going to be too cautious, it’s me.

Call me helpful to a fault.

The results, as I’ve come to call it, is OD, or Over Dave.

 

Judy: This is a  beautiful airport. (Wanders off.)

Me: (Catching her) Judy, you’re one wrong turn away from being the confused old lady on TV lost in an airport. Let’s stick together.

Judy: No need to be so rude, David.

Me: I’m sorry. Let’s stick together.

 

After that I kept a better eye on her.

 

We made it through Barcelona, Valencia, Granada, to Seville, then a fast train to Madrid for the plane home.

It was an adventure with more than our share of travel mishaps with a husband, wife, and mother in law.

One of the goals was meeting up with our kids who were taking classes in Seville.

Watching them turn the corner from my balcony was a lifetime memory.

Hidy Ho, international travelers.

 

Arizona Special

Getting in and out of Phoenix was a test.

Land, take a bus shuttle to car rental. Doesn’t sound so bad?

Aging travel, lugging bags in a crowd, humping them onto the shuttle, off the shuttle, down to the car.

Then doing it all over in reverse on the way out while keeping an eye on everyone.

Eventually the whole ordeal included a wheelchair.

Judy could walk, but it’s a long walk in Sky Harbor from shuttle to loading gate, so we reserved a chair with a guy.

The shuttle pulled up to the curb this time with no one and no chair in sight, just a homeless looking skinny guy lighting a cigarette in a corner.

I got all of our luggage off the shuttle and stood looking around when I noticed the wheelchair folded up near the guy with the cigarette.

I walked over and asked him if he was meeting someone. It couldn’t be us, but it was.

In that moment he buttoned his shirt, tucked it in, and unfolded the chair with his jacket.

With his jacket on he commanded the entire airport. He took over.

With him we jumped the line at bag check-in.

We stood in another line for boarding passes when three guys in their thirties jumped the line on government passes.

 

Me: Those guys look official.

Wheelchair Guy: They’re nothing special. Just department guys feeling the power.

Me: They must be. They jumped our line.

WG: Oh yeah? Watch this.

 

Our guy left us to speak to the counter person, waved our direction, pointed at the three guys, then came back to us.

 

WG: Let’s go. We’re up.

 

He got us ahead of everyone, including the three scowling dudes who had their ‘look at me I’m important’ bubble burst by a wheelchair attendant and an old lady with two extras.

All three had the same haircut, dressed in the same calculated casual, and gave the same smirk to rest of us patiently waiting sheep.

Our thin black ninja took them down a peg and he loved it. So did we.

We toasted him then, and when we landed back in PDX.

 

 

Aging travel works with the right people.

Judy was one of them.

We keep her spirit alive during difficult times.

‘What would Judy do?’

Color yourself lucky if you’ve had anyone like her in your life.