When I read about a man who got serious about weight lifting at 87 and he's now in his 90's, I decided I would up my weight lifting routine beyond getting out of bed every morning, So, at 87 I am embarking, again, on a more rigorous work out, also good for cardio which is one of my issues. it's never to late, until it is. I have a few friends in their 90's, not many. I have more friends in their 70's and 80's.
thank you for this wise and humorous read. So many of your words resonate to my caring for my own mother, during her last six months. My mother and I were not always close, but now I understand that it was because we were, in fact a lot alike. Only we presented differently, and were unable to see our commonality. Her last years taught me well. I saw the improved version of her younger self, as she saw my improvement. No need to age gracefully, simply age, let it flow, let it flow in your unique manner. One day my mother, who was always a classic beauty, and who taught me the notion of good taste and bad taste in fashion, took me to her jewelers. She said the jeweler had made an exquisite ring for his wif, and she wanted me to see it. Well, naturally, I was expecting an understated, quiet gem. A Jackie O. type of adornment. At the time, my mother was in her sixties, i, in my early forties. In we went, and she was thrilled to see the jeweler's wife standing behind the counter. Mother made a grand gesture of asking her to show me her beautiful ring. Of course, because manners trump reality, I acknowledged how stunning it was. I waited until we were outside and a full block away, before blurting out..." what's wrong with you!! That ring is everything gaudy, tacky, and grotesque" She looked at me a little shocked a little sad, or maybe disappointed, before she responded with a wave of her hand, like a queen dismissing her subject, " I've changed" and that was that. At the time, I was irritated, but it didn't take me long before I realized the gift she handed me. Ahh, getting older, allowing the armor, the stuff we thought we needed to survive, to simply fall off, like dead leaves. And we return to our self.
Love the tips on peeing. Actually love every line of this post.
“I’ve changed” is beautiful right there. Even if we have deliberately decided who we ‘really are’ at some auspicious age, it’s not written in stone. The biggest surprise about aging is that things (& bodies) keep constantly changing.
When my cousin passed, I inherited some of her jewelry box. I found real delight wearing some of her splashy items, not only because of my love for her, but they are colorful sparkly fun!
Our apparel is armor; code signaling in a judge-y world. Until it doesn’t have to be. In my mind I am wearing this Tshirt from an internet ad: “It’s OK. I’m on 500mg of Fukitol.”
What a remarkable piece of writing, full of wisdom and humor and insight. I don't always read to the end of posts. When I finished this, I went back and read it again from the beginning.
Aging creeps up on you. I turned 70 five months ago, & it's been five months of slowly acclimating to physical decline, aches & pains, re-reading a detailed echo-cardio analysis from 5 years ago, that my 'heart failure made it a high probability the subject will face cardiac arrest ...'
Now I've acclimated, am slowing down, & find I have no fear of dying. I have little inclination now to aggressively improve my health, I'm relaxed about it, though I'm not depressed or fatalistic either. So it's been a busy 5 months internally, adjusting my hopes & plans, & reopening a connection with God.
I'd still like to spend a few months (or even years) doing some defiant prodigious ocean sailing here in the Andaman. But that may be overly ambitious. We'll see.
I'm content. I still follow the horror-show of what globalist regimes are doing across the West. It's disconcerting my culture is declining even as I decline.
Brilliant! An artist never retires! I often say I am a retired actor, but do we really ever retire from the creative life? Never! It just transforms! Thank you for this beautiful piece.
Really digging on the beauty of this message, well writ and moving. I've lost all of my 90 plus friends - now I gotta make some new friends!
Warmest regards
Jennie
What a beautiful piece - so moving and then the hilarious tutorial on how to pee from the stall next door. Love it!
When I read about a man who got serious about weight lifting at 87 and he's now in his 90's, I decided I would up my weight lifting routine beyond getting out of bed every morning, So, at 87 I am embarking, again, on a more rigorous work out, also good for cardio which is one of my issues. it's never to late, until it is. I have a few friends in their 90's, not many. I have more friends in their 70's and 80's.
Wow!
Thanks for the insight that it is weightlifting just raising my azz to vertical. 😂
LOLOL!
a shy pee-er myself, i guffawed at the acupuncturist. so wise!
thank you for this wise and humorous read. So many of your words resonate to my caring for my own mother, during her last six months. My mother and I were not always close, but now I understand that it was because we were, in fact a lot alike. Only we presented differently, and were unable to see our commonality. Her last years taught me well. I saw the improved version of her younger self, as she saw my improvement. No need to age gracefully, simply age, let it flow, let it flow in your unique manner. One day my mother, who was always a classic beauty, and who taught me the notion of good taste and bad taste in fashion, took me to her jewelers. She said the jeweler had made an exquisite ring for his wif, and she wanted me to see it. Well, naturally, I was expecting an understated, quiet gem. A Jackie O. type of adornment. At the time, my mother was in her sixties, i, in my early forties. In we went, and she was thrilled to see the jeweler's wife standing behind the counter. Mother made a grand gesture of asking her to show me her beautiful ring. Of course, because manners trump reality, I acknowledged how stunning it was. I waited until we were outside and a full block away, before blurting out..." what's wrong with you!! That ring is everything gaudy, tacky, and grotesque" She looked at me a little shocked a little sad, or maybe disappointed, before she responded with a wave of her hand, like a queen dismissing her subject, " I've changed" and that was that. At the time, I was irritated, but it didn't take me long before I realized the gift she handed me. Ahh, getting older, allowing the armor, the stuff we thought we needed to survive, to simply fall off, like dead leaves. And we return to our self.
Love the tips on peeing. Actually love every line of this post.
What a vivid fascinating story.
“I’ve changed” is beautiful right there. Even if we have deliberately decided who we ‘really are’ at some auspicious age, it’s not written in stone. The biggest surprise about aging is that things (& bodies) keep constantly changing.
When my cousin passed, I inherited some of her jewelry box. I found real delight wearing some of her splashy items, not only because of my love for her, but they are colorful sparkly fun!
Our apparel is armor; code signaling in a judge-y world. Until it doesn’t have to be. In my mind I am wearing this Tshirt from an internet ad: “It’s OK. I’m on 500mg of Fukitol.”
Really enjoyed this, thank you Melanie.
What a beautiful post. Melanie, you are such a kind and compassionate person. Kindness begets kindness.
Melanie Chartoff! Fridays! I love this.
What a remarkable piece of writing, full of wisdom and humor and insight. I don't always read to the end of posts. When I finished this, I went back and read it again from the beginning.
An absolutely stunning essay. Thank you so much. My heart is full. A beautiful way to start the day with a morning cup of coffee.
Really found this affirming and joyful. I really liked the puberty comparison to aging. This time, let’s take our time.
Love love love it
Aging creeps up on you. I turned 70 five months ago, & it's been five months of slowly acclimating to physical decline, aches & pains, re-reading a detailed echo-cardio analysis from 5 years ago, that my 'heart failure made it a high probability the subject will face cardiac arrest ...'
Now I've acclimated, am slowing down, & find I have no fear of dying. I have little inclination now to aggressively improve my health, I'm relaxed about it, though I'm not depressed or fatalistic either. So it's been a busy 5 months internally, adjusting my hopes & plans, & reopening a connection with God.
I'd still like to spend a few months (or even years) doing some defiant prodigious ocean sailing here in the Andaman. But that may be overly ambitious. We'll see.
I'm content. I still follow the horror-show of what globalist regimes are doing across the West. It's disconcerting my culture is declining even as I decline.
And so it goes. Take care, everyone.
Brilliant! An artist never retires! I often say I am a retired actor, but do we really ever retire from the creative life? Never! It just transforms! Thank you for this beautiful piece.
One of the wisest and most beautiful writings I’ve read. Thank you.
Thank you for such a great article. Love this series!