“Hey lady, you forgot your cane!”
These are words I never expected to be addressed to me. I was always a vigorous child, teenager, teacher, wife, and mother. I never thought about …
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“Hey lady, you forgot your cane!”
These are words I never expected to be addressed to me. I was always a vigorous child, teenager, teacher, wife, and mother. I never thought about aging until one day I was in the supermarket and a young teenager bumped into me in his haste to buy some ice cream.
His buddy, who witnessed the scene said, “You almost knocked over that old lady.”
What old lady? Who’s he talking about?
Certainly not me! I was in my seventies—still played golf, bridge, and belonged to a book club. I was as active as usual. It wasn’t until I had my first knee replacement that I even thought about aging. Even then, I recuperated quickly, did physical therapy, and resumed my normal activities.
Aging doesn’t happen over night. One doesn’t wake up one day and think “I’m old. Life is passing me by.” It’s far more subtle than that.
For example, one day while watering the flowers in my yard, I tripped on the grass. It was simply a careless accident. I forgot about this incident until I realized that my footing on various surfaces was becoming less secure than it had previously been. My balance was off-kilter. I was slipping more often. How careless of me!
As I passed from my seventies into my eighties, I realized my memory was not as sharp as it used to be. I couldn’t remember the names of acquaintances. This wasn’t a serious concern until I realized I sometimes couldn’t immediately recall the names of friends with whom I actually socialized.
Forgetfulness became a focal point in my daily life: where did I put the letter I was going to mail? It was here a minute ago. And, wasn’t I going to watch a special TV show today, or was that tomorrow? All these little things I forgot became annoyances to me.
My daily life is indeed changing. I seem to be out of touch with today’s world. For example, my grandchildren talk about music I’ve never heard, and technology I don’t understand, and they use language I don’t comprehend, and they have no idea what a Howard Johnson is (or was). One grandchild asked if he were a friend of mine! Perhaps the poet, William Wordsworth, was absolutely correct when he stated his belief that the child was the father of the man—or something like that. I can’t remember exactly, but as a young college student I thought it was profound.
Now, at the age of ninety-one, I am at absolute peace to acknowledge that, as Robert Dugoni stated in his book, The World Played Chess, “every minute of every day is a gift, and growing old is a privilege, not a right.”
I also think that Kathleen Rooney, in her book Lillian Boxfish Takes a Walk, is spot on when she says, “When life seems old, and short of fizz, it seems that way because it is.”
Indeed, we all have individual aging problems that we either overcome or accept. I plan to attend my 70th college reunion this May, and I won’t forget my cane!
A Warwick resident, Barbara Kemalian Stone is a member of the Brown University Class of 1953.
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