I am going to become an old person at the end of 2011.
I don't mean that I will retire, or that my spine will begin to curve, or that I will develop deep wrinkles all over my face (and yes, I know that these are stereotypes and that these things never happen to many old people). But at the end of 2011 I will celebrate my 60th birthday (God willing), and that is the official beginning of old age according to many experts.
However, I will be among the youngest of the "young old" for quite a while. The young old are people in their sixties and seventies, most of whom enjoy fairly good health. Then, assuming I'm still here, I will join the ranks of the "old old," people in their eighties and nineties, who increasingly become debilitated by such common ailments as arthritis, Parkinson's, senile dementia, etc. That sounds scary.
The last time I remember being so clearly aware of joining a distinctly new age cohort was on my 13th birthday. Becoming a teen-ager sounded so exciting! The year was 1964, the year the Beatles were on the Ed Sullivan Show; it seemed like the perfect time to become a teen.
I am not so excited to join the ranks of the elderly.
Jill LePore has an interesting article on the life of G. Stanley Hall, the founder of gerontology, in the March 14, 2011 issue of The New Yorker.
This portion struck me:
"Old age takes everyone by surprise, and no one really ever comes to terms with it. Hall thought that this was because old age is the only stage of life we never grow out of, and can never look back on, not on this earth, anyway. "
Well, I suppose many people are able to look back on being young old, if they make it to old old. But the fact that it is the only stage of life we never grow out of is a bit unsettling.
The near approach of old age does keep taking me by surprise. You would think I had had plenty of time to get used to the idea, but apparently one never has enough time. Is it true that "no one really ever comes to terms with it"? Surely many people have done so, although just as surely that depends on one's definition of "coming to terms."
A friend on Facebook posted that he was teen in the sixties, and will be in his sixties in the teens. There are many of us in this group -- by 2030 (I'll be 79 if I'm still here), it is predicted that people over 65 will be more than 30% of the US population.
The article by LePore also says that old people are valued when they are rare, and not valued when they are common - not a hopeful sign for those of us who will be old in 2030. Actually, I don't remember a time when it seemed to me that old people were particularly respected or valued. And I have been guilty of that attitude myself. Sigh.
I don't mind the coming of old age (I'll be 58 next month) so long as I spend most of it outside the doctor's office and so long as my mind works. Did you read the recent articles that talk about happiness? It's completely skewed toward senior status (so long as you're in decent health). That is, the senior in the US is more than twice as likely to be happy as the young adult or the person in middle age. Less stress, greater stability (for most) -- all that. I tend to agree.
ReplyDeleteMost of the time I don't mind the coming of old age, but I have to admit that every so often it does take me by (unpleasant) surprise. Yes, I do like reading the recent research and speculation on happiness (including Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project blog).
ReplyDeleteI think the part about growing old that bothers me the most is in large part illusory. That feeling of endless possibilities I had for many years (I could move to Morocco; I could become a doctor; I could take up figure skating) sometimes seems to be closing down. But a good argument could be made for the fact that possibilities are actually opening up, because many of the responsibilites of earlier years (such as raising children) have ended.
So my emotions vacillate.