It’s official. I am now a little old lady. Reaching 85 is a wonderful milestone. But the magnitude of the number 85 gives one pause!
I am not at all bothered by unimportant stuff like looks. I ignore my sagging belly and neck as well as the fact that my wrinkles have developed wrinkles of their own. No one can break the law of gravity. How we look in our later years is a sort of tax we pay for the privilege of longevity on this beautiful planet.
Yet I am bothered by how my aging body functions. I am grateful that I can still walk and talk and drive. But I get terribly cross with my aging fingers. It seems to take me longer to open a package than the time it took for the Amazon Prime delivery. We need a scissors in every room, pliers must always be handy to open a bottle of bubbly or even a stubborn bottle of water. Don’t mention the words “shrink wrap” or I get hysterical.
I remember learning in medical school that aging skin loses both elasticity and subcutaneous tissue, thereby becoming fragile.
But who knew that the mere touch of a featherweight object against one’s arm could cause bruising or that bruises get bruised if brushed again?
Old ladies have to balance and walk carefully. A carefree walk down a flight of stairs without clutching the handrail is a thing of the past. Donning trifocals and hearing aids becomes a part of one’s daily dressing routine.
Calendar meltdown occurs if I don’t immediately write down something I have to remember like who, when and where I just arranged to meet for lunch. And woe will be to the aged person who lets more than a nanosecond pass before adding toilet paper to the shopping list.
Because many of us begin to run out of strength, speed and stamina even before we get our Medicare card, oldies can only avoid near-terminal fatigue by careful planning.
Though I could once handle three “things” a day (taking a class, dinner out and a concert) I cannot do it now. As a matter of fact cooking dinner before an evening event can be too taxing, which is why I invented the avocado sandwich requiring only two ingredients, a knife and plate, no cooking.
Time is now precious. Actually it always has been, but when we are young we don’t realize it. I am increasingly bothered by things that waste my time. Like unwanted robocalls or the eternity it takes to reach a real person when what you need is not available on any button you are told to press.
Also, like many other octogenarians, I am an immigrant in a digital world and speak the language haltingly. I am hopelessly CSL (Computer as Second Language) so the many things my smarter-than-I am gadgets can do bewilder me. And a 12-year-old grandchild is not always at hand.
Because the Land of Geriatrica is foreign territory, life feels strange sometimes. Most of us are retired and have been out of school for many years but we must continue to learn new things about a rapidly changing world and our own changing capabilities. I actually spend more time these days giving advice to myself than I do to parents. Sometimes the advice is pretty similar.
Many years ago I wrote that every child needs the three essential Parenting Vitamin A’s: affection, attention and acceptance. Now I realize we oldies need to parent ourselves the same way. Be affectionate to yourself, pay attention to your needs and fragilities, and above all accept yourself for who you are now — you will never be who you once were. But you’re still here, so be a good parent to yourself. And to any other old people in your life.
More essential to ponder: the need for connections, curiosity and compassion. As we age we need connections to others. We must guard against isolation and loneliness. We should start thinking about ways to be with others long before the time comes when we can no longer drive or manage a house. Curiosity about the world keeps my mind active. I Google new things (or things I have forgotten) many times a day, taking advantage of one of the digital world’s blessings. Much easier than holding a heavy dictionary or bending down to get a volume of the encyclopedia.
We may be old but we are still human so we must continue, as long as we are able, to offer compassion to others. And, when the time comes, gracefully and gratefully accept the compassion of others.
Aging, if we are lucky, can be much more than pesky losses. There is richness in our many years of memories. Recalling a lifetime of people and places. Hearing a melody and remembering when you first heard it as a child. Rereading a great book like “Anna Karenina” and thinking what a different person you were when you read it as an adolescent.
Every day can bring simple pleasures. The joys of seeing family and friends. Walking the dog in the early morning. Watching the sunset. An email from a dear friend who is far away. A phone call from a 3-year-old grandchild.
Make peace with any regrets, we cannot change the past. Enjoy all your happy memories. The great American philosopher, Dr. Seuss, wrote, “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.”
Happy Aging! (I promise to go back to parenting advice in my next column.)
