(Or, the Third Act before the curtain closes)
“There’s a moment when people know — whatever their skills are at denial — that they have passed from what they can delude themselves into thinking is middle age to something that you could call the third act.”— Nora Ephron
“Aging is an extraordinary process where you become the person you always should have been.” — David Bowie
First, let me say at the outset that I’m grateful that I’m above ground and not dust in the wind. When I was nearing my 65th birthday five years ago, I found this factoid reassuring. If one lives to the age of 65, they have an 80% chance to live twenty more years to 85 years old. Hallelujah!
Next month, I celebrate my 70th birthday. We’ve all heard in the past few years that 40 is the new 30, 50 the new 40, and 60 the new 50. It’s a somewhat wishful point of view that as we live longer with preventative healthcare (for those who can afford it), and continue to place a value on youth in our culture, we could reimagine what aging looked like compared to previous generations. Let me just state emphatically, 70 is NOT the new 60, it’s 70!
The blogger at 70
Longevity & Mortality
Don’t misunderstand my insistence on declaring my age for what it is. I’ve spent the last decade, accepting my age, adjusting to the changes in my body and health, planning for the future (a little late, I must add!), and exploring how I desire to live the remainder of my life and create some kind of lasting legacy.
From a NYT’s article, The Joy of Being a Woman in Her 70s. “In America, ageism is a bigger problem for women than aging. Our bodies and our sexuality are devalued, we are denigrated by mother-in-law jokes, and we’re rendered invisible in the media. Yet, most of the women I know describe themselves as being in a vibrant and happy life stage. We are resilient and know how to thrive in the margins. Our happiness comes from self-knowledge, emotional intelligence and empathy for others.”
Illustration: Marie Monteiro, NYT
In recent years, I’ve paid more attention to my genetic legacy, wondering if I will inherit the longevity of my paternal lineage, the health challenges of my maternal family, or some combination of both, which is genetically most likely. In the coming year, my father turns 90 just after my 70th birthday. He still lives at home with the help and support of his children and remains independent.
I returned home for Thanksgiving with my bio family. Since my mother died three years ago, I’ve taken her place as the head chef for our holiday meal and celebration. I have lots of helpers, sisters and their husbands and two generations of nieces and nephews. Everyone has a job. I’m responsible for the prep beginning the night before and for getting the turkey, ham, and dressing in the oven, plus staging the buffet table and with my sisters, getting the food on the table.
The Lenzke Family Thanksgiving 2019
Tami is responsible for making the mashed potatoes and Kelly makes additional side dishes. This year I mentored my grandnephew, M’Kye as a sous chef who monitored the temperature on the turkey, glazed the ham, and received a lesson in the basics of turkey carving. My grandniece Nala made vegetables, and with her brother Jace, helped set the table.
Since I arrive the night before, my father and I have time to catch up and an opportunity for me to observe how he’s aging. Overall, he remains in good health, except he has some hearing loss, moderate cataracts, balance issues, difficulty with stairs, and uses a cane. His heart and lungs are good, and he continues to live independently in his home with help from family.
My father provides a looking glass for me, a peek into my future. We’re alike in some ways, we’re social beings, auditory, who’ve become more introverted as we’ve aged and protective of our routines and need to control our environments. He enjoys living alone and his primary social connection is with his family.
On the other hand, as I watched my mother age before she died of a heart event, I received additional insights into my future. Mom developed adult onset diabetes like her mother and I followed them both. She and I were on medications for high cholesterol and hypertension, were former smokers, and recovering alcoholics. We both developed osteoarthritis in our knees and hips, and the list goes on.
Mom died at the age of 83, so I figure if I take an average of their ages and continue to manage my health, I will live to be a minimum of 86.5 years old, all-in-all a good life. Just to reinforce the original premise of this essay, I feel like and accept that I’m 70, NOT 60, though I continue to be young-at-heart and youthful in spirit.
Now, a reality check. Things change. After years when life expectancy increased, now mortality rates are increasing, disturbing signs of the times. From a HuffPost article, U.S. Life Expectancy Continues to Fall, updated on November 29th this year:
“American mortality rates have continued to rise alongside worrying upticks in overdose and suicide rates, according to three new government studies from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.”
“Life expectancy dropped to 78.6 years in 2017, down from 78.7 in 2016, contributing to the longest-running decline in U.S. history since World War I, when a flu pandemic killed almost 700,000 people nationwide between 1915 and 1918.”
‘OK, Boomer’
The ‘Ok, Boomer’ meme has appeared to go silent for the most part after it had its moment. To quote the pop artist of the 1960’s and 1970’s, Andy Warhol, “In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes.” Since I proudly embrace my boomer status and though I’m aware my generation once proclaimed, “Never trust anyone over 30!”, I’d like to go on record with this response before I abandon the subject.
The generations that followed baby boomers have in fact inherited a world in crisis, a democracy in danger, an economy that favors the 1%, a climate that’s changing disastrously, a cultural divide where one’s gender or identity, the color of one’s skin, who you choose to love, your access to education or healthcare, religious beliefs (or none), or status as citizens or immigrants, affects the quality of your life and opportunities for your future.
All boomers are not to blame. Generalizations mask the causes for the issues we face. The problem is not boomers, but a generation of power brokers, often white men, often of an advanced age, who have been elected to enact laws, frequently without term limits, who possess vested interests driven by lobbyists, campaign contributors, PACs, and corporations for profit.
Many of my generation, including me, protested against the war, fought for civil rights and equal representation under the law, raised the consciousness about women’s right to choose, equal pay for equal work, the right to love who we choose, and our responsibility as stewards of the world to protect the planet, plus educate and protect our children, and the list goes on.
Boomers too, need to stop characterizing generations X, Y, & Z in general and sometimes disparaging terms, whether in the workplace, in the home, or on social media. We need to accept, or in the very least, tolerate our differences, and find ways to coalesce and address the issues that face us ALL.
One last boomer rant: Our youth culture often doesn’t value age, experience, and the wisdom gained over time. Yes, I admit some of us, including me, can be intractable in our beliefs. It is frequently grounded in fear. Change is challenging and as boomers age, we also face new challenges including the cost of healthcare, food security, long-term care, economic security and the list goes on.
Death & Dying Is More About Life & Living
Back to the title of this essay, 70 is NOT the new 60, it’s 70! That statement is reinforced by the awareness of my own mortality. Like many others my age, I read obituaries. I’m reminded of what life is left for me, as often as I reminisce about the past. I live in the moment most days, in gratitude, that I’ve been given one more day. How I choose to live that day, for the most part, is up to me.
I’ve learned to accept my age, in fact, be grateful that I’m old. The acceptance of death and dying is more about life and living. The following is one of my favorite oft-told stories:
“It’s okay that you’re old; it means you’re not dead.” ― My niece, Gemma, at the age of 4.
Some say, “Out of the mouths of babes comes wisdom.” This was certainly true on that day eleven years ago when I buckled my then four-year-old niece, Gemma, into her car seat. She examined my face closely as I leaned in to safely strap her in the backseat of my car.
Seeing the wrinkles in my skin she said, “Auntie Linda, you’re old!” I had an immediate, unedited emotional response, which she was perceptive enough to identify and know that I was hurt by her comment. Because she loves me and didn’t mean to hurt my feelings in an effort to comfort me, she added, “It’s okay that you’re old; it means you’re not dead!”
She’s right. I’m grateful to be alive and above ground. I’m grateful too for the wisdom I’ve gained during my journey and the precious memories I’ve made and the people I’ve known and loved. Looking back, all-in-all, I consider myself pretty lucky.
I’m a member of a Death & Dying Group. We meet monthly, read and discuss books, or excerpts on the subject, watch related videos and TED Talks, and most importantly, talk about our lives and our end-of-life plans and wishes, plus how and what we need to communicate to our loved ones and family to assist us in that end. We also talk about how we want to make the most of the life we still have and the legacy we wish to leave.
Lessons Learned
My life has not always been easy, but it’s always been worth the effort. I’ve not always possessed what I’ve wanted, but I always received what I needed, and most days it was simply the love of friends and family, and the ability to live comfortably in my own skin.
From a Mixed Metaphors, Oh My! blog post, Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes
“At the end of the day, and at the end of my life, I want to enjoy the simple wonder and beauty of nature, the love and affection of the people in my life, music and the arts, witness the curiosity of children as they experience things for the first time, and share with my peers the wisdom, lessons, and even the regrets I’ve encountered and gained on my journeys. Yes, in the end, I will most likely cherish the mundane gifts of everyday life.”
Related Reading from Mixed Metaphors, Oh My!
Who Knows What Tomorrow May Bring?
Additional Reading & Listening
U.S. Life Expectancy Continues to Fall
We’re Getting Old, but We’re Not Doing Anything About It
The Joy of Being a Woman in Her 70s
Facing 70: Finding Peace in Being ‘Real’
‘OK boomer’ isn’t just about the past. It’s about our apocalyptic future.
The End of Friendly Generational Relations
OK, Boomer: This Is How To Respond To Gen Z’s New Meme
Wunderbar!