When I’m an Old Lady…
A Reflection on Aging in the Wake of my 78th Birthday
The following rumination was inspired by “my old ladies”…
…women 20 or 25 years older whom I’ve befriended and gotten to know since I was 50. I now am old enough to be someone else’s “old lady.” Still, I continue to seek out “good” much-older women — though I’ve had to adjust the age difference! Each of my old ladies is engaged, interesting, and active. I do whatever I can to emulate their strength, courage, self-care, social savvy, and sense of humor — in short, to age “well.” But, of course, it’s not all in my hands.
When I’m an old lady…
Will I remember my passwords?
For my bank account and credit cards
For Amazon and Speedo and J. Crew
For that credit-reporting — or did I opt out?
Will I know what each ding or beep means?
The toast is finished?
The coffee brewed?
The refrigerator is door open…again?
Will I have accidents when there’s no beep?
The tub could overflow.
The water could boil down.
A fire could start…if I’m not careful.
When I’m an old lady…
Will I find my wallet in the pantry…
…next to the small jar of wasabi?
Will I remember what wasabi is?
Will I forget that I have a wallet to lose?
Will I still cook?
Will I struggle to retrieve the word salt?
Will I set the table and discover I already have?
Will I forget how much I enjoy good food?
Will I be reluctant to leave my house?
Will I still want to try a new restaurant?
Who will drive me if I do?
What will I wear?
When I’m an old lady…
Will I be tolerated or toasted?
Will I repeat the same stories?
Will I be treated with respect?
Will I become invisible?
Will I still walk three miles a day?
Will I walk at all?
Will I forget to walk?
Will I care?
Will I be able to care for my dog?
Will I remember how to feed him?
Will I groom him despite arthritic hands?
Will living with a dog be “too much”?
When I’m an old lady…
Will I spend my days visiting doctors?
Will I need someone with me to help me understand?
Will I be on many medicines and struggle to keep them straight?
Will I be in pain?
Will I know the names and faces of the people I love most?
Will I remember the woman who lives next door?
Will I be someone’s burden?
Will I know that I’m still loved?
Will my inner strength and optimism protect me?
Can 88 — even 98 — be as “good” as 78?
Will I continue to accept change gracefully?
Will I learn to live in the moment, when moments are all that’s left?
Stories on Medium about “my old ladies”…
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