By I have reached what I used to think of as old age. I don’t think of myself as old (possibly because my father is 102 and that’s old) though as I sail toward my 70th year on the planet some things are becoming inescapable, aching joints, atrophying muscles, chronic disease, cancer diagnoses, weight gain, hearing and eyesight and hair loss, sagging skin and mysterious growths and blemishes, unplanned naps, general forgetfulness — what did I come into the kitchen to do?
It’s hard to ignore, even though I don’t think of myself as old, that I’ve entered the age of diminishment, the proverbial downhill slide. Lots of folks ask my father what’s the secret to living a long life. Did he lift weights, eat only fruits and vegetables and fish, swear off red meat and alcohol, live a chaste and virtuous existence?
Because I’ve heard him answer the question, and I know his life story, I can say he did none of those things. He wasn’t athletic, likes a good steak, usually has a glass of wine every day, a glass of scotch or two or three on occasion, and though he’d tell you he believes in and practices moderation, a good part of his long life is due to luck and modern medicine.
Most of us lucky enough to reach the age of diminishment don’t have any idea what to expect. When we were young, we never gave old age (or the elderly) much thought — it’s fairly easy to ignore it when you haven’t yet attained it. Having attained it, we still look in the mirror and wonder who is this old person? Is the golden age just a euphemism for incontinence?
One of the misconceptions about the elderly is that we’ve got more free time. But whether we’re still working or retired, the amount of time is the same. And in my experience, it’s no more free or less occupied. Yes, one’s health can be a limiting factor, and maintaining an aging body takes time and money and many don’t have that luxury. But mostly the routine parts of life fill our days as they’ve always done.
My day is filled with sleeping, reading, writing, talking to my wife, preparing and eating meals and cleaning up afterward, shopping, getting together with friends and family, visiting and reminiscing and talking about the events of the world, volunteering, walking the dog, pursuing various interests and hobbies, traveling or just walking about where we live, daydreaming, napping and recharging, interacting with children and (for many) grandchildren.
One of the challenges of aging involves the pace of change today and the exhaustion that comes from not just keeping up with it but trying to make sense of it. As we prepare to celebrate the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence many of the principles enumerated in that Declaration seem under threat. The language isn’t contemporary and we know in that day “men” didn’t include black men or women, but for those of us who’ve managed to get to our old age, the belief in equality and liberty have been core beliefs — in spite of our spotty history of living up to those ideals.
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.”
Today our country has launched a war that many don’t understand or support; we have credible evidence that the richest and most powerful among us are guilty of raping and assaulting young girls; our government is imprisoning children and adults in warehouses without due process; masked and armed men roam our streets and have attacked and killed US citizens; freedom of speech and the press is daily suppressed and attacked; the majority of those in power (13 of 26 cabinet officials, not including the President) are billionaires a group that includes just 0.0003% of all Americans. It’s hard to believe those billionaires either represent or understand the majority of Americans and none of us believe money makes anyone wise or just.
Many of us never expected in our age of diminishment to be arguing about whether democracy and the freedoms outlined in the Declaration of Independence and our constitution were a good thing or not. Across the country and the world people are standing up to support and reaffirm those unalienable rights, but it’s easy to get discouraged or to conclude I’m too old for this or to pretend the fight belongs to the young. It’s easy to give up, but I remain hopeful for all the reasons American writer Rebecca Solnit outlines in defining hope:
“Hope is a belief that what we do might matter, an understanding that the future is not yet written. It’s an informed, astute open-mindedness about what can happen and what role we might play in it. Hope looks forward but draws its energies from the past, from knowing histories, including our victories, and their complexities and imperfections. It means not fetishizing the perfect that is the enemy of the good, not snatching defeat from the jaws of victory, not assuming you know what will happen when the future is unwritten, and part of what happens is up to us.”
I like this definition of hope — it rests between pessimism (we’re all doomed) and blind optimism (no worries, everything will be fine). It acknowledges that what happens isn’t preordained but requires our active participation. We all must work together to write the script if the story is going to continue to be that all people are created equal with certain unalienable rights that include liberty and justice for all. I can think of no better legacy for those of us on the downhill side of our days than working to create that future.
