THE ACHY-BREAKY GOLDEN YEARS
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Several weeks ago I joined a birthday lunch with seven friends. We’re all “up there” — it was her 79th. At one point the conversation turned to the popular game of pickle ball. “Sounds like so much fun!.” “Great exercise too.”
Then, reality: “But I can’t play because of my shoulder.” “My ankle.” “For me, it’s my hip.” “My wrist couldn’t handle it.” “Oh my god, my elbow.”
These ladies are not wimps. They are svelte, soignee salad-eaters who play golf and tennis, fly fish and walk miles along the beach; some work, others volunteer, all are active in our community. As the decades accrued, we’ve learned the benefits of Aleve, Advil, Avos Natural Products, Plexus EASE, reflexology, chiropractors, cortisone shots, Vitamin D, tart cherry juice, turmeric and honey milk, ginger tea. And how can I not mention my sister’s marijuana-laced BLISS cream.
But there is pain beyond our achy joints. One friend confided, “Not much gets me down except sometimes I realize all I’ve given up because of my age — like skiing, and going out on my boat, and wearing flip-flops.”
My energetic wonder-woman sister-in-law Shirley said, “Overall my health is good, but it’s sad outliving my body’s abilities. I used to love splitting wood with my chainsaw, shoveling snow and using my backpack blower. Can’t do it anymore.”
For me, it’s riding a bike. I don’t trust my balance.
A friend from Washington state hopes to keep “being independent, driving, exercising, shopping, still living in our own home. But I’m also a little scared about the future. When and what?”
My sister Robin was more succinct: “I imagine being killed accidentally by an oncoming vehicle and I savor its quickness — no lingering.” Watching friends struggle with memory loss and cancer diagnoses, I agree.
“But I have saved all my life for this rainy day,” Robin added. She treasures walking her garden paths and wooded property trailed by her cat Ferdy. “I am happy to be independent of means, with my loving partner Shirley, living in a place of beauty and convenience. I am an optimist and my glass is half full.”
From California, friend Anne described her joyful “high” when hearing the words, “Your labs are normal.” She delights in remembering passwords, sipping hot coffee in the morning and cold Chardonnay “at 5ish” in her cottage overlooking the Pacific Ocean. “Life truly is all about family and friends.”
Joannie in Florida said, “What gives me joy is a group of friends enjoying each other — doesn’t matter what their beliefs are. They just banter and laugh over dinner and share happy experiences.”
Yet sadness is always lurking. After arriving here from Canada for the summer, friend Susan told me, “How I longed for Maine from my Montreal apartment during Covid. It’s a sublime feeling to be on the beach and scanning the foaming edges for the earliest sandpipers. Paradise Found! Yet, the border is still closed between Canada and the US, and I feel stranded and too far away from my 92-year-old Mum.”
As I balance the highs and lows, the joys and sorrows, the indignities of our age with the thrill of still being able to sink a 17-foot putt, or get out of bed in the morning without needing a forklift, I remember Joannie’s savvy advice: “I cannot waste time on things I can’t change. Some things are what they are, so I accept and move on.”
So instead of riding a bike, I’ll walk. One thing is certain. I’m going to keep on … keeping on.
