Month: October 2024

The photos were shared by several netizens.

“I just never thought I was old.” This is the wisdom shared by many older adults over 90. They say they don’t and never have considered themselves to be old. They really do not feel old, so why act that way? I read about a 102-year-old who was indignant that there are few birthday cards available for those over 100. Wouldn’t you love to meet her?

Contrast this with my friend at 70 years who said she has hit her “best if used by date!” This friend is active, younger than I am, and involved in many activities such as golf and book groups. To my knowledge, there is no expiration date stamped on her! When asked, she explained that she expects to decline and to become dependent on help. Thus, she is preparing for that scenario to define her older years. Of course, having a plan seems prudent. Yet, the plan should not define an entire phase of life before it is lived!

The reality is that each of us does have an expiration date. However, it can be found nowhere on our packaging! If we don’t know the number of years ahead, why not choose a perspective that brings us vitality? So, take a moment and reflect on how you talk about age. Do you convey that your expiration date is right around the corner or that age is just a number?

Good Genes or Good Thoughts?

Aging well into our 90s does rely on “good genes” to some degree. It is true that if your parents lived into their 90s, you are likely to do so as well. Still, the latest article I read indicates that our genes only yield a 25% influence to the quality of our aging. The other 75% relates to environment and lifestyle choices. So, it does take both to become a healthy, happy 100-year-old.

The good news then is that we have some influence over how we age. We all know to eat well, exercise, nurture friendships, and find activities that inspire a sense of aliveness. But, how in the world does believing you do not feel old make a difference?

What You Believe Is What You Get

Many of us are aware of Becca Levy’s research showing that positive beliefs about aging can give us an additional 7.5 years of life. At 76, I’d sure rather live to a vibrant 96 than 89. Time flies and I’ll take all I can get.

The pivotal question is what do you really, really, really expect will happen as you age? The 102-year-old incensed about the lack of birthday cards truly did not see herself as old, and so taps into her available vitality. She is not alone among the feisty 90-something women in our world. Assuming decline results in acting in ways that lead to decline, rather than finding ways to live fully adopting what is possible.

What underpins this kind of thinking is not giving any credence to the ageist messaging around us, and certainly not internalizing it. Ideally, ageism is not on our radar. We may not notice ageist input, leading to actions such as the honest indignation at few birthday cards for centenarians. Other responses to ageism include discounting it, and/or refuting by actions any external and internal ageist messages. Buying into ageist expectations about any particular age only serves to perpetuate the rampant ageism around us.

It does not cross my mind to not do something because of my age. I don’t know what being 65 or 75 or 85 means in terms of what is possible because we are all different. If I assume now that I won’t be able to hike at 85, I probably won’t! So, I choose to know that I will hike as long as possible and perhaps for all my days. That is all I can know. I may choose not to do something because it is unpleasant or too difficult to try for me currently, rather than I should not due to ‘my age’. Can you hear the difference?

Probably, the 102-year-old did not run up flights of stairs, climb mountains, or party the night away. Then, you never know! For inspiration, watch the world’s oldest gymnast, Johanna Quaas at 91. These women understand how to do what they can with what they have, see that as enough, and figure out how to do what they decide to do.

Fully Live Each Phase of life

Life is maturation. Every phase of life has its unique value. That includes us. What brings meaning and purpose to life shifts over the years. So, it makes little sense to compare ourselves to earlier phases. Think of young adults learning about their capabilities and how to use them. Think of the 40–60-year-olds hitting their stride as adults. Then, think of those of us 60 and beyond. We have emotional wisdom, probably the best vocabulary of our lives, and creativity. I like to think of us as the stabilizing force in our society.

The point is to value who you really are at your age, whatever number it might be. Then, do what brings you meaning and purpose now in life. More than any other time in our lives, we have the freedom to choose what we bring to the world. Life may include staying active in areas like family, community, helping others, learning, or pursuing hobbies. More and more of us are continuing to contribute professionally in some way. Our focus is on living life rather than on concerns about an impending expiration date.

Personally, I can’t wait to see what the next stage of my life brings. Maybe that will begin in my 80s. In the meantime, let’s make the most of this moment.

Also read, Looking and Feeling Young… Beyond 80!

What About You?

Do you have expectations about what you should or can do at your age? What do you think the future will bring? Is what you believe really what you want for yourself as you get older?

The photos were shared by several netizens.

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A week has crawled by since we made it home after Hurricane Milton. Until this year, I considered myself storm-seasoned, living 35 years in Florida and most of it on the coast. I researched local history and published my first novel this year about the storm that took out Cortez, FL in 1921. I titled it “When Not If.” Now I know 2024 is the “when” … and the year of my first hurricane evacuation.

I wasn’t worried as Milton approached. Milton is a kind name, I thought, perhaps of a favorite uncle or an old school chum. Still, I did my chores: bank, gas, liquor store.

“You don’t want anything bigger than a twenty,” the teller said as she counted out my stack, five times thicker than usual. “When the power goes, this is what you’ll need.” She was the first to get my attention. Then I saw all the bare spots on the liquor store shelves. By the time I made my turn at the fuel pump and thanked Jesus for gas, I knew it was time to take Miltie seriously.

When I got home, my partner Richard had boarded the windows and secured the truck camper. My sister called him to say, “Get her out of there.” Anna Maria Island was bulldozed by Hurricane Helene about a week before. That storm only grazed our coast and left destruction unseen in my lifetime. Milton was coming right at us.

Attitude Makes a Difference

I’d been saying, “Have a good storm” all morning long. The comeback, “You, too,” was like sharing a wish. It lightened the mood. One friend asked, “How can you stay so positive about everything, even a disaster?” Truth is, I don’t know how I stay positive. But I know thoughts often come true, so I’ve trained myself not to manifest the negative ones.

We prepared the best we could, tried to get some rest and pulled out at 4:13 a.m. with two changes of clothes, random snacks and dog food. By daylight, traffic was still steady; and we stopped only to top the tank and relieve ourselves. I’d prepared myself for infrequent bathroom breaks, but it’s hard to explain to a puppy.

When we could travel no more, I started calling for campsites. There were none to be had in Florida, though Alabama had opened its state parks to campers as had the Atlanta Motor Speedway – options if we needed them. But now we needed rest, so we pulled into a state rest area west of Tallahassee.

Lucky Breaks Along the Road

I jogged to the restroom while Richie walked the pups. When I rejoined them, we had new friends and a place to camp for the night. Our new friends were sisters – both in their 60s, one the caregiver for the other who has Alzheimer’s Disease. They’d slept the night before in their car and spent the day at a picnic table under the rain shelter they invited us to share.

As we swapped food and stories, tents popped up and more campers claimed space. Caravans carrying every generation unloaded picnic dinners and babies to change. Cat cages came out for air, and dogs of every description created welcome distraction. Our own dogs Lassie and Bandit were on their best behavior and great comfort to the sisters and me.

The rest area became a well-secured, family-focused, pet-friendly Woodstock. Card games and catch, all types of music in varied languages, laughter and then quiet. I heard not one angry word all evening.

We slept surprisingly well but decided to travel on and left the sisters with our bug spray, baby wipes and trash bags. We’d prepared better than we knew. Plan B was to wait out Milton with storm-seasoned friends who’d waded through five feet of water in their home from Katrina.

Traveling west, we noticed more and more vintage cars. Sure enough, we were right in the thick of Cruising the Coast, one of the nation’s largest car events and a bucket list item for my sweetheart. Once the storm passed and boots on the ground assured us the house was standing, we enjoyed a few hours of classic cars, music and BBQ on the Mississippi coast before turning back home.

The Other Side

A common farewell before the storm was, “See you on the other side.” That’s where we were headed amid convoys of power workers and National Guard. We drove south until the solid red line on the dash screen stretched further than the gas tank could go. Against my Richie’s better judgement but trusting my gut, we off-roaded through flood waters and downed trees to the campsite I’d reserved early in the day.

We joined first responders, families who’d lost their homes, and lots of people with pets like us returning home to uncertainty. Unable to eat that evening or sleep well, we found gas early (thank you, Jesus) and made the last hundred miles home.

Sirens, chainsaws and heavy equipment have been the white noise of our community. Our neighborhood pooled money and manpower to haul away the fences that once separated our yards and the trees that cooled the ground for a hundred years.

Roads are tunnels of logs stacked high beside soggy couches and mattresses. About half the traffic lights work, and the chaos is disorienting. But our house is standing, and we are blessed.

An Unfamiliar Emotional Mix

In our county, thousands are newly homeless. Million-dollar beach homes are washed away. Whole trailer parks are condemned. We are just one county in one state. We look like zombies, experiencing storm fatigue which can last for weeks, months even. No undereye concealer can hide it. A good night’s sleep doesn’t cure it. Disaster ages us faster than everyday current events.

It feels impossible to relax or concentrate. Those of us who fared better than others feel “guiltitude,” an emotion coined on Facebook. I’ve never been so grateful to see my own driveway, but I admit feeling guilty about the title of my own book. We feel helpless. We want to help others, but we’re waiting on our own oxygen mask … and the roofer and the cable guy, the refrigerator repair tech and someone to fix the water line to the laundry.

When my mask is in place, I’ll make my plan to help clean up this mess. It’s going to take a lot of help and a long time. We plan to make the best of it.

Chin up.

Let’s Have a Conversation:

What’s the most recent disaster you experienced? What was it like? Have you been through a hurricane mess? What did you do first to get things back in order?