We all age, but how do we age? Who will be there to look after us?
Even if we stay healthy, as we continue living, we’ll likely age. How will we age, and what will our lives be like? Who will be with us?
I sometimes travel for meetings, and I was in Denver a bit ago. The meetings finished just after noon, and my flight was after 4 pm. I decided to head to the airport early so I didn’t have to rush, and so that I could have a relaxed lunch/dinner there before my flight.
I had my meal and something to drink, and then wandered the airport before heading to my gate. The gate area was nearly empty, but started to fill up bit by bit. There were families of four or five children, and, of course, other people of all ages. Pretty soon, the whole area was full of people ready to board, but most were there for a different flight. My flight was scheduled for a couple of hours later.
As the boarding began, an elder gentleman across from me stood up, gathered his bags, and wobbled toward the gate. I could hear he needed to get on the flight to go home to San Jose, but the gate agent kept telling him this wasn’t his flight and he needed to sit down and wait until this flight and one other one left, and then it would be his time. He kept trying to show his boarding pass to get on the flight, and she kept telling him it wasn’t his flight. She told him this aircraft was going to Minneapolis, and he kept repeating that he had just come from Minneapolis and the airline told him to come to this gate and board so he could get home to San Jose.
The gate agent and the elder gentleman were both visibly frustrated, and it was uncomfortable to watch the escalating problem.
Finally, I approached the gentleman and advised him that I was going to San Jose on the same flight and we just needed to sit down and wait a bit longer. I walked him back to his seat and explained that I would stay in my seat about 15 feet in front of him, and he just needed to keep an eye on me and my red carry-on bag, and that I wouldn’t board without him.
He had a very old, but classy, worn travel wallet with his tickets, reservation, boarding pass, and assorted slips of paper that kept falling out, but I reviewed his ticket and boarding pass and confirmed we were both going on the same flight, and that I would not board without him. His travel wallet was embossed with the name of an oil company that doesn’t seem to exist anymore, and he told me it was a gift from his father, who had been an executive with the company.
I told him to sit and relax and hang onto his papers and I would be just across from him and he could see me and let me know if he had any problem. Once I sat in my own chair, I spoke loudly to him to make sure he could hear me from across the aisle, and assured him I would remain right there where he could see me until it was time to board, and he and I would then board together on the flight to San Jose so we could both get home to our families.
He sat and calmed down and kept going through his wallet full of papers, but he seemed to be OK that I would get him on the right flight. He’d look up every now and then to make sure I was still there, and I’d give him a wave and a thumbs up to let him know all was well. The area started to fill up for the next flight, and there were a number of families with small children near me because they knew they’d board first. One lady who passed for boarding had four little kids with her with the youngest being just an infant and still in the stroller. She stopped in front of me to thank me for stepping up to take care of the elder gentleman when nobody else was there to help him. I nodded and smiled in acknowledgment of her kind words.
A couple more families with children passed by, and then another family came along with the young father who looked to be military or former military. The young father stopped in front of me and said, “You’re a real gentleman, sir. I salute you.” And then he did.
I kept checking on my new friend across the aisle to make sure he wasn’t trying to board again without me, and I thought to myself . . . What will happen to me as I age? It really hit me at that moment.
And you should ask yourself that same question. What will happen to you as you age?
After everyone had boarded and the gate area was pretty empty, I checked on my new friend to make sure he was doing OK, and he showed me his boarding pass again and told me he needed to get on the flight to San Jose to go home. I again assured him that everything would be fine, and I’d get him on the flight with me to San Jose.
When two new gate agents showed up for the San Jose flight, I approached them and explained a bit of the story and let them know I was supposed to board in the first group after the disabled and families and military, but I wanted to be one of the first to board and that I would be escorting the older gentleman who needed to go to San Jose. They readily consented, and I gathered my new friend and went to the front of the line when it was time.
We showed our boarding passes and headed down the jetway, but he got a little scared at the steepness of the ramp and wasn’t sure how to handle it. I assured him he’d be OK, and that he shouldn’t worry about all the people behind us, and he should just take his time and take small steps to make sure he was OK. I let him know we were early, and there was no rush.
Once we were onboard, I suggested he sit in the front row, but he informed me he preferred the second row. I seated him there and put his larger bag in the overhead, and then he asked where I would sit. I explained I would sit further back in an exit row where I could stretch my legs.
As I turned to go, he said, “You’ve done all this to help me, and I don’t even know your name.”
I told him that I’m Jim, and he told me that he was Bill.
I told him I’d meet him when we got off and I’d make sure he got his luggage and found his ride, but he was long gone in a courtesy wheelchair by the time I got off. I caught up with him at the baggage claim, and he told me his driver was waiting in the wrong spot, but the wheelchair attendant promised me he would take Bill and his luggage out to his ride.
So, I ask again. What will happen to me as I age? What will happen to you as you age? Will we all have people who look after us?
Jim Ward is a longtime South Valley resident with his JD degree from New England and his LLM Estate Planning specialization degree from Florida. Jim has offices in South Valley and Willow Glen, and he also owns J. Ward Financial in Morgan Hill for wealth management services. He is a Master Elite Advisor for Ed Slott’s IRA Advisor Group and he holds the certifications of CFP®, RICP®, and CRPC®.
