Remember When Age Meant Wisdom? It Still Does

Learning from those advanced in years and experience

Some settings are rife with perspective. We walk out differently than we walked in. An assisted living facility is one of those places. Spending time with seniors who have lived far longer than us resets our priorities. We quickly gain clarity on what truly matters.

At this stage of life, most residents are not concerned about comparing lifestyles or careers or balance sheets. They may be bored by this conversation. They also don’t seem to care about the new paint in our dining room or the hours we put in on our latest project. Achievement only captures their interest if it is related to their grandchildren — or great-grandchildren. When it is, it takes very little to impress. Look at that smile! He’s walking now?

They still care what they look like, but only so they won’t be embarrassed. With declining eyesight, they don’t want to miss seeing a stain on their shirt or a rip on the side of their pants. They may have a favorite blouse because they like the color or pattern. Instead of being form-fitting, it is comfortable. They carry themselves with dignity, which is the best wardrobe of all.

Spending a few years visiting a parent in assisted living, I observed what lit up residents’ eyes:

Showing Up and Caring

Whether their neighbor had been president of a company or toiled in the mailroom did not matter. Status, power, and salaries seem significant to us but are nearly irrelevant to the more mature. They did not ask others about these things, and they did not share themselves. What mattered was if their friends and loved ones showed up to visit and express concern about them.

“My daughter is coming!” one gushed as I walked down the hall, her news so meaningful she wanted to deliver it, even to a stranger.

If a best friend or close sibling visited, they emanated with glee. Whether visitors were family or not, a glint in their eyes appeared if they received a call that loved ones were on their way. It was of great value to spend time with those who showed them love. With their presence came comfort and a sign of care and support.

What also engaged them was stories about the place they grew up. They liked to talk about their family origins, who they were related to, and the places they lived. They delighted in listening to whose cousin knew whose sister-in-law. The maze of connections fascinated them and brought focused attention. The history of their lives — as well as others — seemed to intrigue them.

Respect and Empathy

“Do you know what she said to me?” my mom would ask as I leaned in, expecting an audacious comment to match her outrage. Instead, I heard a statement that could have many meanings, almost none of them offensive.

“Well, I don’t think she meant it that way,” I consoled.

“She says that all the time,” my mom whispered indignantly, sighing.

We never outgrow the desire for respect and empathy. Whether in a tone of voice, mannerisms, or actual words, even those with advanced dementia can pick up a hint of disrespect.

In a culture that often does not revere age but mostly tolerates it and, at times, punishes it, these residents understood patronizing words. A stray remark could cross the line of acceptance.

Valuing their humanity and the significance of their lives held respect for them. Appreciating their spiritual journey and the difficulties they navigated honored them. While their physical and mental health wavered, they remained aware of how others were treating them.

Felt Interest in Their Lives

Living 70 or 80 or even 90 years evinces a rich history. These individuals may have witnessed Alaska and Hawaii become part of the United States. They lived through the assassination of John F. Kennedy and the intrigues of Watergate. Sesame Street premiered on their watch, and Skylab launched as the first U.S. space station. They heard murmurs of a little-known company called Microsoft in 1975.

Many are veterans with folded flags which are more valuable to them than stocks and bonds. Their journeys matter. Having someone listen to their highlights validates their experiences.

At the same time, we who are listening learn. Seniors’ stories resonate with treasured memories and wisdom gained. Typically, these individuals have navigated more treacherous terrain than we have so far.

Their priorities as their life dims are a banner of what it means to be mature: Appreciating those who show up and care, those who treat them with respect and empathy, and display felt interest in their lives.

While these behaviors matter at any age, it takes several decades for many of us to realize this.

Beth Dumey writes about a variety of topics, generally revealing insights, ironies, and perceptions. She holds master’s degrees in both Communications and Counseling Psychology.