“The older we get, the luckier we are”’
Pennie Hunt
This line is from an article sent to me by my friend Don, who is 92, and says he’s not considering retirement. He enclosed a picture of himself at work to prove it.
I have a number of friends in their 90’s; older than me but not by that much, and they are all busy folks. Joan had surgery recently but is chomping at the bit to get back to her volunteer job. Delores avails herself of every opportunity offered at the assisted living where she resides. Exercises, goes for walks, participates in Bingo and Dominoes, helps with activities at her church, and when she runs out of all that, she might be found straightening up some shelves in the common area
When I consider all these people do, it’s pretty hard to justify complaining that I get tired sooner and move slower, than a few years ago. Recently, we were eating at a Mom and Pop establishment that has a large customer base of people our age. Bruce asked me, “Do all older people get up slowly, or do we just notice it because we do the same?” Probably both, but at least we still can get up from our chairs. I have noticed that it’s easier to keep moving than to start over after sitting. _.
Bruce and I have a system for picking up things off the floor. I can lean over and do it, but it’s harder to hunker down and reach something, which he can still do. So, we discern what’s appropriate and then decide whose turn it is. As for getting down on knees, we know it’s wise to be sure you’re near something to grab onto in order to get back up.
A couple of people who are our age have recently been told by their doctors to walk briskly for 45 minutes daily. I’m guessing that the docs are young enough to still walk briskly, and haven’t a clue that the day will come when they can’t.
Don says his old dog died, and his barn cat too. Gets lonesome around his place. He didn’t say, but you likely wouldn’t get another dog at this point because it might outlive you and would have to have a new home. Our dogs are middle aged in dog years, but I think of what it would be like to not have a dog, and know that if we had to move to assisted living, they’d be up for adoption. We’re lucky to have barn cats which require feeding and, yes, even gophers that need trapped. That 45 minutes of walking isn’t brisk, but it has purpose, and while we’re out, there are leaves to rake and hoses to wind up, and clothes to hang on the line or bring in.
We’re lucky to be our ages and be active, but aging well has a lot to do with attitude. Our friend, Elizabeth Ebert, was an icon in the Cowboy Poetry world right to the end of her life. The last time we spoke she was excited to be invited to entertain at a gathering in Alpine, Texas. “I’ll be ninety-four,” she said. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
Meet me here next week and meanwhile, do your best to be wonderful.