The Bitter and Sweet of Our Golden Years

       

My brother, Steve, and me dressed for Easter

             As we creep slowly into old age it’s sometimes hard to know when we have actually arrived at that “golden” time of life. After all, the definition of “old age” varies, depending on who is defining it. According to Wikipedia, “Most developed-world countries have accepted the chronological age of 50 years as a definition of 'elderly' or older person. The United Nations has agreed that 65+ years may be usually denoted as old age^[9] and this is the first attempt at an international definition of old age.”

            When I saw that my local newspaper, The Daily Star, was seeking a new “Senior Scene” columnist, I asked myself if I’m old enough to take on this post. I will be 65 on my next birthday, so according to most definitions I’ll be a senior soon, if I’m not already. Sometimes it’s hard to believe I’ve reached the other side of Middle Age. Where did the years go?

I always used to look young for my age. When Mark and I got married 41 years ago we were 23 and 24. We lived in Boston on a shoestring budget, so when we visited the House of Seven Gables and got in for the lower fee offered to people under 18, we didn’t argue. About five years ago cashiers started to give me a senior citizen discount without my asking for it. I didn’t know whether to be grateful or insulted! That’s when I knew I no longer looked young for my age and I had become a full-fledged member of the “Senior Scene.”

Mark and me at the House of Seven Gables, 1976

There are many additional signs of senior citizenship with which others my age may identify. I often see Facebook memes that ask, “Do you remember this?” and I always do. Do you remember the milkman delivering glass bottles of milk to your house? Yes. Do you remember watching black and white television and getting off the sofa to turn the channel? Yes. Do you remember dialing phone numbers to talk to your friends on a phone that was attached to the wall? Yes, I do, and so did my children who are still young adults!

Then there’s the sad fact that many of the things I used and the toys I played with can now be found in antique stores. This Christmas my daughter displayed, among her decorations, a box that once contained some 1950s tree lights. It looked like something I would have seen in my parents’ waste basket once upon a time, but she told me it was the most expensive decoration she purchased this year. I guess someone smarter than I knew to salvage their parents’ trash!

Speaking of parents . . . another sign of my encroaching old age is the fact that both of my parents are now residents at Fox Nursing Home. Mark’s parents have been dead for several years, and we are moving into the position of family caretakers once held by our parents.

Another marker of senior citizenship is the addition of grandchildren to one’s life. I became a grandmother just over four years ago, and now two little children bless my old age with new challenges, new joys, and new love. They remind me that along with the aches and pains of my increased years come new experiences and new insights that I can share with others. Every stage of life presents us with lessons and gifts, but our golden age offers the most valuable jewels of all, when we have the wisdom to recognize them!