So now that I am 88, I really am finally learning what it means to “grow old”. It’s all about Letting Go and Moving On. It means adapting to new realities. Letting go of dear friends or a life partner is the hardest. After seven years without Jack, even as I miss his hugs terribly, I am ever more aware of his presence. I am shifting from feeling so responsible for others to taking better care of myself.
In 2019 I joined a local theater board to help them incorporate DEI goals. I am leaving that organization in June because I realize that I am no longer as energetic or competent to lead others as I once was. My memory is slow to recall names. I forget to attend scheduled meetings. My thinking is slower, even to express an opinion. I am done with that phase of my life—well, not with expressing opinions if asked! But I am adapting to my awareness of diminishing energy and ambition. I listen more and observe others who are younger taking over. It pleases me.
I made three promises to myself when I retired in 1995 from my beloved teaching and directing at Boulder High School which had consumed both time and energy for 15 years: to give priority to care of my body and my spiritual growth; to read as many books as I wanted; and to develop friendships with women.
My life at 88 is now, finally, about taking care of me. Maintenance is the necessary work of our later years. I swim in our condo’s pool for exercise and release. I joined a yoga class and am the oldest in the class. I get congratulations for just showing up. My body feels better too—more flexible joints, less creaky. I eat when I want and fix what I like and share the extra with Beth or friends who’ve given up cooking.
I read many books for enjoyable company and to learn more, especially how history informs our present-day issues. Here’s my list of some of the top books I have most enjoyed:
Caste: The Origins of Our Discontent by Isabel Wilkerson; The Sixth Extinction by Elizabeth Kolbert; Inheritance by Dani Shapiro; A Woman of No Importance by Sonia Purnell; The American Lion by Jon Meacham; The Night Watchman by Louise Erdrich; Deacon King Kong by James McBride; Becoming Duchess Goldblatt by Anonymous; The Water Dancer by Ta Nahesi Coates.
My three book groups have led to closer friendships with women I admire and whose company I enjoy. I attend a weekly lunchtime Zoom Bible study. Not only does is feed my spiritual growth by discussing current issues as they relate to biblical teachings, but this small group of mostly women has become a meaningful support circle. I still love going to the theatre, to concerts, and occasional travel still appeals. It all feeds my mind and soul. I write letters or make spontaneous phone calls or texts to connect with others, and I continue to nurture my spiritual path that readies me for transitioning to another reality when the time comes. I am done with “productions” and “projects” that require a lot of time and effort. My focus now is more about relationships and being with people I care about and for the give and take of both new and enduring friendships. I take more time now for acts of kindness. I have become a modest philanthropist by supporting others who provide compassionate human services or organize for positive social change.
This is what I now know with certainty: Love is the bridge that connects us, even in death.
Watery Wisdom
Beginning a new chapter of life is a lot like jumping off a high diving board without a life preserver. You have to trust the water to hold you up and yourself to know how to paddle to safety. The wonder is that you can do it with practice and, finally, without fear.