Are we old?
The following is an excerpt from Ann Richardson, The Granny Who Stands on Her Head
A group of friends are talking, catching up on their lives. One, aged 71, suggests she is beginning to feel old. Her friend, aged 69, says, “No, not me – I’m not old, I’m even working part-time.” Their friend, aged 75, says, “No, me neither. I feel full of energy.” There is an air of triumph. But what is going on? If they aren’t old, who is?
The central question is – what is this “old” that they don’t feel? It is surely something to do with an image they cannot – or will not – identify with. I suspect the image dates back to our view of our grandmothers – or other older women we knew – who fully expected to be called old.
These women wore sensible shoes and ‘age appropriate’ clothes. They darned socks and cooked everything from scratch. They stayed at home with their knitting or went out with friends to do something sedentary, like playing bridge or bingo. They would never dream of taking an exercise class. Unless they needed money, most had never worked – and, if they had, they would have retired years before. Indeed, they had no expectation of living very long, as life expectancy was so much lower than now, perhaps 70 or 71. They were at the last stage of their lives. They felt old to us, but perhaps more importantly, they felt old to themselves.
Our generation is completely different. We play tennis, we go out on dates if we want, some of us – no one really knows how many – have sex. We wear the same sort of clothes we have always worn – of course, we don’t feel old. We say “you are as old as you feel” or “age is just a number” or even “60 is the new 40” and pride ourselves on how well we keep ourselves in trim. We feel vibrant and young. Are we kidding ourselves?
People do seem to fear the thought of being – or even seeming to be – old. As is constantly noted, we live in a youth culture and everyone wants to feel they are still part of it. We can dye our hair, have facelifts – not to mention all sorts of other nips and tucks here and there – and hide our advancing years reasonably well. We are, to all intents and purposes, not ‘old’ to the outside eye. And so it is easy for us to declare ourselves to be far from old.
Of course, some of us do feel old. We suffer from ill health or disability, have witnessed significant deaths, perhaps nursed an ill husband, wife or friend. We are no longer able to do the things we used to do. We accept the situation and readily say we feel no longer young – or even middle aged. These are an important part of our generation, but not the focus of this book.
In truth, what is wrong with being old? Why do we feel diminished by the very thought of being put into this category? If we have passed retirement age – and for many of us, that was a long time ago – we are chronologically not exactly young. Why not come out and say so?
We have the very thing that makes us old – loads of experience of all sorts of people and situations. We have had to face – and come through – crises of one kind or another. We have seen all the stages of life and helped children and possibly grandchildren through their own difficulties. And, most of all, we have the strengthened confidence that all this experience brings. Some would say we have wisdom.
My father, who always looked young for his age, worked for an international organisation which brought him into contact with people from all over the world, including those from many countries in East Asia. He struggled to gain authority in their eyes, because of the weight they placed on age. He told me that as soon as it was appropriate, he used to mention, as casually as he could, that his children were in college – or beyond – to gain the necessary gravitas.
So some of us are happy to reveal our age and some of us will deny it to the end. The central question, in my view, is whether we feel diminished by the information or empowered by it. Can we learn to settle into our third age and actually enjoy being old?
My view is that it may not last long – who knows – but it is great being here.
Ann Richardson’s most recent book, The Granny Who Stands on Her Head, is primarily a series of reflections on growing older but is also partly a memoir. She has written numerous other books, including one centered on the thoughts and experiences of people who provide hospice care. Born in the US, Ann lives with her husband in London, England. Please visit her website: http://annrichardson.co.uk.
