When Did I Get Old ?! by Ellen Yaffa

by Ellen Yaffa

Aging is like a cautionary tale. A horrified friend lectures her 70-year old husband as he descends from the roof, “At your age, you shouldn’t be climbing up ladders!” My daughter warns, “Watch your step, use your flashlight.” My partner’s refrain: “Be careful! And whatever  you do, don’t fall!”

Vulnerability is in the air. Change is afoot. There’s no doubt about it— my stamina and capacity are not what they were 10 years ago. But I refuse to mince my way through aging with tentative steps. Sure, I take more care with bumpy sidewalks and working out. I respect the adjustments that are needed, but won’t allow myself to withdraw from life’s electric charge.

The year I turned 65, I applied for my Medicare card, moved to a smaller house within walking distance of cafes and markets, and went to Iceland for a vacation. When I returned my Medicare card had arrived. I opened the envelope from an unfamiliar sender—  CMS Medicare- and for a nanosecond, wondered who the card was for. I didn’t feel old enough to have one yet. 

Earlier in life, I imagined getting old might identify itself as a clear, distinct milestone. It might  announce one morning over coffee, “I’m here, you’re old!” Instead, I seem to be sliding into it, hardly noticing the transition from one segment of the journey into the next. But now I understand how this life chapter unfolds: aging is a process, not an event. There is no clear sign that tells us we have entered the Third Third of life. It’s not like passing from California to Oregon. We may not immediately recognize the boundary, but once we are solidly inside the new territory, the markers reveal themselves.

There’s no doubt about it: aging changes us. And at this stage of life, Time has a capital T and a mind of its own. Because we know now, with a new, visceral awareness, that life is finite—OUR life—and that there is less time ahead than behind. They are intimate dance partners, time and change, moving to a syncopated rhythm, alternating between leading and following.  

Time has always fascinated me: how the same amount of time passes with such varying impressions of tempo; the ways our thinking and capacities change; and how our relationship to it evolves over the course of a lifespan. I think differently about time now that I have ticked through my 60s and beyond. Early on, most of us are always looking ahead to what seems like an enormous and leisurely expanse. Later, time rushes by just as we want to slow it down. In life’s Third Third, we evaluate more closely how we fill time. We become impatient with misdirected routes that just “eat it up” instead of hitting the mark. Like sleep, like money, the less one has, the more intense the focus on how to use it. 

Perhaps the greatest shock has been noticing how my inner and outer selves are disconnected, as if living in a split-level house: a vibrant, eager core staring quizzically at the stranger in her mirror. Who is that woman with all those lines around her eyes and mouth, the forces of gravity wreaking havoc with her neck and knees? A keen awareness, freshly felt every time my body says “wait.” Graduating to larger pillbox. Needing to take a break in the midst of a formerly nonstop travel day. A vulnerability that is new to me, like a distant relative I have known about all along, who has just shown up on my couch, filing her nails and expecting dinner. 

But wait! What’s this? Noticing also, in addition to dizzying changes, flashes of recognition of the core self that has been with me for the whole journey, from youth to aging. Dotted lines of continuity along the labyrinth of a lifespan that connect before, now and next. I’ve learned to not fight change—it has occurred and will continue. My goal is to discover new solutions and be grateful for the capacity to still operate on “go” much of the time. I treasure the grace to “go” differently, and to accept without resentment, the adaptations aging requires. There is beauty and grace in winter, when branches grow bare. They dance and sway in the breeze, allowing light to filter through.

You can read more of Ellen’s thoughts on aging in her new book, “Life’s Third Third— It’s About Time!”  A collection of flash essays and original art available at Amazom.com  https://tinyurl.com/5c44zsv5

 

Tags: featured, women writers

Category: On Writing