The Miracle of Living Joyfully to 104: 11 Compelling, Counter-Intuitive Tips

Marge is the Energizer Bunny of aging — a role model for us all.

Marge is still “upright and breathing,” as she often says when asked how she is. But this is a special day — her 104th birthday.

“I never expected to live this long.”

Who could blame her? Born in the midst of the last pandemic, Marge is one of only 72,000 Americans to live to 100 and beyond (slightly over 2% of the population)

Sati, who helps Marge out three days a week with cleaning and errands, surprised her this year with a cake — chocolate, naturally, Marge’s favorite. She invited several of Marge’s favorite residents and building staff to join the celebration.

“Even the super came,” adds Marge — glowing, even over the phone.

The Queen of My Old Ladies

Marge is one of my old ladies — at this writing, the reigning queen. It’s not just that she’s the oldest, she’s the best.

I know, I know…. Just as parents aren’t supposed to have favorites, I, who collect “good” much-older women, shouldn’t declare one better than the others. But in one important sense, Marge is.

She’s the oldest, so she’s been at this pursuit called “life” longer than any of us. Though Zelda was nearly 105 when she died and will always live on in my heart, Marge is still here.

Our First Date

We met in 2016 at the holiday party given by our co-op. I had seen her before, holding court on our roof — always elegant but also approachable.

I elbow into a space next to Marge at the buffet table and lead with how much I love our building.

“Oh, this is a good house,” she confirms, smiling broadly. “We moved in two days after Pearl Harbor. Tonight is my 75th anniversary of living here.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m some stalker,” I say, “but are you ever available for lunch?”

“Sure, how about Wolfgang’s?” she suggests, referring to a nearby steakhouse. I always order oysters and filet mignon.”

That was our beginning. The following year, Marge turned 100.

Can you guess her #1 “secret”?

Luck!

She not is the first of my old ladies to use that word to explain why she’s still here.

The luck of good health.

The luck of avoiding accidents.

The luck of being born into a certain family which determines your particular genetic make-up and defines your early childhood.

The lucky of finding a good mate.

The luck of having money and/or making it.

The luck of crossing paths with good people who support and inspire you.

The luck of being at the right place at the right time.

The trouble with luck: It’s not in your hands.

The Universe — God — or whatever you believe is responsible for the unfolding drama of your life — deals the hand. Your challenge is to play the cards you get.

Marge certainly does.

Helping Luck Out

Marge has had her share of loss and bad stuff. She buried her closest friend and two husbands. She had a few health scares, some trips to the hospital, surgeries. She’s been in the dark during blackouts and stuck at home during COVID.

Still, she handles whatever comes her way. That’s not luck. That’s living consciously and mindfully.

Marge has always been a practical person, logical, and level-headed. She doesn’t see herself as being particularly wise — just someone with “good common sense.”

She also doesn’t believe in giving advice.

People don’t take anyone else’s advice. They only change their behavior when they see someone who has they want.

Marge is worth watching.

Marge has what a lot of us want: a “good” old age.

Here’s what I have observed over the years — not necessarily in order of importance!

1. She loves to laugh.

The evening I approach Marge at the buffet table, she is spooning cheese squares and mini-sandwiches onto a paper plate perched on the seat of her Rollator. As she grabs the handles and starts to walk away, I joke: “Better be careful that you don’t forget — and sit down.”

“Oh, thanks for the reminder,” she says. I heave a sigh of relief. It’s not always wise to tease someone you barely know. “Then again,” she adds with a twinkle in her eye, “I like to make an impression.”

2. What you see is what you get.

I never have to guess at who Marge is, or how I’ll find her on a particular day. She says “no” to invitations when she’s tired or if she’s just not in the mood. She is always her authentic self — sometimes, disarmingly frank. When I bring her exotic chocolate from Paris, she calls later to thank me and adds, “but it had no taste. You can have it back if you like it!”

I wasn’t hurt. I knew she appreciated the gesture. She prefers the Dove bites I bring her from Duane Reed on 34th Street.

3. She’s a “star” who knows how to cede the spotlight.

So often “old” people are pegged as boring. Some, in fact, prate on endlessly about themselves. Not Marge. She’s fun to be with. She listens and contributes well-placed comments to every conversation. She reads The New York Times and Barron’s Weekly. She watches TV news and educational programs. When I am “behind” on current events, I can always ask her what’s going on in the world!

4. She works at feeling productive.

One of the key challenges of aging is to review what you “did” in your younger days — a profession, pursuits, projects, philanthropy. How do you now apply your mind and capabilities so that you still feel useful and needed — that you matter? Marge’s career when from studying at Katherine Gibbs to accounting to investing, something she still does. “It’s what gets me up in the morning.” With the volatile market of late, she’s held back from buying, but her head is still in the game.

5. She nourishes herself…literally.

Marge plans her menus and loves doing it. “I’ve got a full refrigerator,” she boasts two days before a snowstorm is predicted to hit Manhattan. “I called D’Agostino right away.”

She sometimes cooks for herself (“Not that you can call what I do ‘cooking’!”), but prefers to order from nearby restaurants. She tweaks as needed. “I didn’t like the veal they sent me, so from now on, I’m going to sick with their fish.”

6. She knows how to fly solo.

In part, Marge is good company because she likes herself. She’s content with where life has taken her. She’s not immune to occasional loneliness, but keeping busy helps. She reads the Value Line newsletter and makes notes on stocks she might buy. She winnows the piles of junk mail and charitable solicitations. She writes lists and keeps track of appointments. She cleans out closets and drawers. COVID isolation wore on her, too, but her Groundhog Days were no worse than yours.

7. She doesn’t give organ recitals.

I’ve never heard Marge complain or do an “organ recital.” She knows that doctor visits, test results and tales of bodily ills simply aren’t that interesting to anyone but yourself! Even when I inquire about a recent check up, she cuts to the bottom line: “He doesn’t need to see me for another three months, so I guess that’s good.” End of discussion. This, of course, is another reason she’s fun to be with.

8. She’d rather do it herself.

Marge cherishes her independence. The first time I visit her apartment, the house intercom buzzes. I offer to answer it.

“No, no,” she says, rising slowly from the couch and grabbing the handles of her Rollator. “You stay there. I’ll get it. It’s good for me.”

Marge moves slowly; her back is bent, but she’s not down for the count. She’ll thank you politely for offering to help her and promise, “I’ll ask if I need it.”

9. She’s appreciative and giving.

Marge never takes for granted how lucky she is. I ask if she ever feels “guilty” for having so much when others have so little.

“Feeling guilty” won’t change their suffering she says matter-of-factly. “I am just thankful every day.”

She is also extremely generous. She makes a call or writes a thank-you note when another is thoughtful or kind. She tips well. She funds a hospital program for amputees. And she gives to organizations whose mission she approves, such as the United Negro College Fund — education, she is convinced, will even the playing field — and groups that feed the hungry.

10. She doesn’t dwell on what was.

Marge was married to two wonderful men. One of them died slowly and at home, a time that was undoubtedly trying for her. She might say, “It was horrible,” but makes it clear she’d rather not to talk about it. Besides, it was long ago. The years tend to blur.

“I don’t spend time thinking about the past,” she tells me. “I can’t change it anyway.”

11. She is still open to new ideas — well, some of them.

Next week, Marge has an appointment to review the latest in hearing aids. As long as she’s here, she’d like to keep hearing!

Like many of my old ladies, she is not a big fan of tech, but she’s also not entirely close-minded either, especially if it means keeping in touch.

When I move to Paris, I ask if she’d be willing to “Face Time.” She has no idea what I mean. “It will be like talking to me on a little TV screen.” She is game. Sati contributes her iPhone.

We’ve had several video chats since. She particularly likes it when I switch the camera view so she can see how Rocky is doing!

Bottom line:

Marge is lucky, but she also makes the best of her luck.

She doesn’t dwell on the past, she says, “because I can’t change it anyway.”

She just keeps living.

She keeps learning.

She keeps laughing.

We’d all do well to take a page from her playbook.

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And it you know any great older women who might be willing to join my old lady brigade, send ’em my way.