by Margaret Steel Farrell

What exactly is my attitude toward getting old?
I was fortunate to have great female role models regarding my attitude toward aging. My mother never dwelled on her age, never focused on it at all as far as I could tell. And never denied it when someone asked her how old she was (though she may have thought them impolite). In fact, she expressed that she thought it was a silly vanity when women would deny their age to people. It seemed to be a non-issue for her and, in turn, it was a non-issue for me. Now, it didn’t hurt that she had great skin and a beautiful, flawless face all her life. Mind you, on the other hand, her hair began to grey in her 40s like most of us but she didn’t seem to fuss about it.

My grandmother on my father’s side was fortunate to have very good health and lived on her own until she was into her 90s. I didn’t know her because she lived overseas but I was told she walked to the market daily, kept her home in order and would regularly knit items “for the old people” at the nursing home. We always laughed at that. Obviously, she did not consider herself old like them. And I have always wondered if that is one of the reasons why she wasn’t. I wonder if the perception we have of ourselves and the attitude we choose to take about our aging play important roles in how we approach aging and in how it affects us.

So, you might think that, with these impressive examples in my life, I would have a really healthy attitude toward aging, wouldn’t you? The truth is, I thought I did too. But, in exploring my thoughts on aging to write this article, I found myself getting quite stuck. On the one hand, I believe “getting old” is nothing to fear, we just need to have a positive attitude and a healthy perception of ourselves (see above). But then I had an “ah-ha” moment as I was writing about the importance of a good attitude when I realized that my good attitude had a whole lot to do with the colour of my hair! When I’ve had a fresh colour done, I feel great. When my roots are coming in grey, I become more conscious of my looks, wondering whether I’m beginning to look old and I start thinking a lot (and sometimes worrying) about aging. Yeah, not a fun realization. So then I wondered, “What exactly is my attitude toward getting old?”

After all, when you stop to think about it, it’s actually kind of odd that we cringe – perhaps involuntarily – when someone talks about “getting old” or asks us about getting old. Because, really, there is no other option. From the moment we are born, we’re getting older.

So maybe it’s actually the difference between “old” and “older” that gets to us. Most of us don’t mind getting older . . . we mind getting old. Interesting distinction. 

Then I had to ask myself, what does “getting old” mean to me? And I’ll be honest, I had a hard time coming up with much more than an image of someone slow, quiet and not well. You see, my impression of “old” doesn’t have too much to do with an actual age number because, throughout my life, I’ve always known people who had a high age but who don’t seem “old.” So I think, for me, it’s more about how people act.

That said, I also realize that health can play a large factor in an individual’s aging process. Good health is a blessing that many people are simply denied as they age. I witnessed my own mother’s decline as a degenerative disease weakened and eventually stole both her strong body and mind. And my father-in-law too slipped away from us by degrees after a devastating heart attack. Within a span of only a few years, I witnessed these two strong, independent goers whither physically and mentally. And I have to tell you, my view of growing old became irrevocably changed. Something I had never put a whole lot of thought into began to fill me with dread.

So you see the dilemma? Is getting old dependent on your attitude? Is it dependent on your health? Or are some people simply too immature to get old? Hahaha! We were way overdue for some humour here. So then I thought, maybe I needed to come at this issue from a different angle. What if I answered the question, “When do I feel young?” And that was easy. I feel young:

• When my hair is freshly coloured (shallow perhaps but true)
• When I’m dancing.
• When I’m laughing.
• When I’m walking in the sunshine.
• When I’m sharing a great time with my son or my friends.
• When I get things in order at home.
• When someone finds me attractive.  

I realized that when I’m engaged with my world (socially or by myself) and doing what pleases me, I feel alive – enthused and focused and happy. I have energy and feel youthful. And you know what? When I am detached from my world and not doing what pleases me – not working toward my goals and dreams – I feel miserable and sometimes lost. And that can also make me feel feeble. Which makes me realize that, to me, the concept of “getting old” really is about how we approach life. 

I’ve known people who seemed old before their time. And I’ve known older people who, even when not physically well, were getting on with things the best they could and they didn’t strike me as old. It’s not about the passing of the years. No one can keep themselves from getting older. But we can keep ourselves from getting old. 

And you know what? I actually like getting older. Yes, my body has begun deteriorating. My eyesight has gotten worse, for example. But, when I find that upsetting, I remind myself that while I don’t see as well as I used to, in many situations I “see” things so much more clearly now than I ever could have before. Life experience has given me perspective and wisdom.

Have I paid the price of my eyesight for inner sight? Perhaps one could say that. But I prefer to think of it, instead, as a metamorphosis, like when a caterpillar becomes a butterfly. The caterpillar may never walk in the same way again but now it can fly. So too, my sight has evolved. And instead of thinking of it as paying a price, I prefer to think of it as growth or development. It’s all about attitude. 

So I’ll colour my hair and try to keep my home in order and continue to dance and laugh with my son and my friends. And walk in the sunshine. And I’ll get older but, hopefully, never old.

Filed under: Author Margaret, Margaret's Musings, Spring Chick