So far I find my 60s to be distinguished not by wisdom but discovering the scope of my ignorance. The blog is partly responsible. In order to write a post, I pretty much have to have an opinion. To have an opinion, I pretty much have to think I know something, which means I now have a 9-year record of me being quite wrong.
That hasn’t mattered much around style or personal history. Who cared if I said it was about big plaid and then it wasn’t? (Although, to be fair, my track record on trends is not so bad.) Who can know if High WASP houses are as I said? Past is past. Childhood memories are notoriously unreliable.
But I cannot tell you how many times I have pronounced something here and later, maybe 5 years later, maybe 2 days, have eaten my words. When I had a responsibility to the topic, like moderation in alcohol, I wrote an update post. If I had found my Instant Pot to be useless, I’d have told you. (In fact it’s still my favorite.)
Most recently look at a comment I left on Kim France’s blog, Girls Of A Certain Age. She wrote I Am A Prisoner Of My Own Vanity, admitting to how much she hated aging and its impact on her looks. I answered, in mild opposition.
I’m not saying I want to lose it all, I like having full hair, I wear matte liquid lipstick, I stay in reasonable shape. But for me, who I present as now is such a truer reflection of who I actually am, abrupt, analytical, non-conventional, and a believer in magic all the same. It’s liberating to finally look more like a witch than like Hayley Mills.
Wouldn’t you know it, a few days later my mom spent a night in the emergency room. She’d bruised her eye, the staff at her residence noticed her eyes were dilating differently. Given the doctor’s concern about possible brain injuries, off we went to the ER.
Nothing serious happened; turned out Mom had displaced a lens she’d had implanted to address her cataracts. She imagined the ER to be a giant sleepover populated by lots of tall men and nice women. She worried were there enough beds, which was reasonable, Monday is trauma night and the bed allocated her as she waited for scans was against a hallway wall, labeled, I think, B06. But as the double doors would swing open wide, if she and I happened to be standing near the entry, she’d cry out, “Come in!” welcoming the injured to her party.
(First point on the ignorance map, I’ve spent the past year trying to keep Mom out of the ER, protecting her from post-operative delirium. No more. At a certain point you have to defer to the experts.)
Nobody at the ER cared what I looked like. But at some point I had to go extend time on my parking station, so I walked out to the garage. As to witchery, the machine rejected my credit card with an opaque error message and two men in their mid-twenties said they’d be happy to use their card for me. I could sense compassion for an older person in their voices. I wanted to reply, “Oh, no, just a cardinal error for interfaces, fancy language when simple will do,” to let them know I had been in charge once, that I too had an intellect.
But I didn’t. It would have been rude.
Several hours later a woman smiled at me in a kindly way as I crossed the street in front of her car. Again, I sensed encouragement for the spritely older woman and her long gray braid.
It seems that no sooner do I decide I am glad to give up being pretty I have to take up the fight not to be cared for by strangers. I think I need a haircut.
And if I realize, in a few days, that I’m in fact omniscient, I’ll be sure to come back here to correct.
Have a wonderful weekend.
103 Responses
Note: Also that emergency room/medical stuff is kind of explanation for why no replies to comments last week. This week I promise I’ll join the conversation below, FWIW.
Whatever you do..don’t cut your hair until you have carefully considered the decision. Long grey hair is so beautiful and still somewhat unique. It keeps you edgy. Me too….
@Lee Ann, OK, I won’t rush to act, but, how to keep it edgy? I feel I may have verged into Auntie Em territory.
I am 67 and in reasonably good health. I always looked young for my age until I hit 65, at which point my genetics kicked in and I started to get a very saggy chin. It was what I had always dreaded. I didn’t care one fig what anyone else thought, only what I saw when I looked in the mirror. Against everything I ever thought I would do, I decided to get a light lift. I am so happy I did. I don’t really look much younger, I just look more like the person I have always known. I look like me. We cannot predict how we will feel as we age. It is a solitary journey. We just need to be true to ourselves and keep positive.
I would love to know what type of light lift you had. Today is my 66th birthday. I am no longer saying never, rather why not?
@Teddi, It is a solitary journey, and also a communal one in a way. At least that’s how I feel about the group here. Do let us know what sort of procedure you had. Most of all I think we have to share our processes of thought and feeling – even if we all make different resultant choices.
@Teddi,
In the interests of sharing knowledge, even though I am not “Teddi”:
I just turned 76, and I can report on a “light lift of the jaw/neck area” that I had done in my very late 60s. The commercial name is “Smart Lipo,” although I prefer to call it “a subcutaneous laser treatment of the neck,” which is more accurate.
Tiny incisions (which fade easily) are made behind each ear and just under the chin; some sort of teeny laser is inserted under the skin through those incisions and the surrounding collagen is heated up, which ultimately tightens the skin. No further cutting or repositioning of the skin is involved.
I had an excellent response to this treatment, although my neck was not too far gone to begin with! I highly recommend it, but you should work with an experienced plastic surgeon who already knows you and your facial contours. Responses differ, of course, and this procedure is not cheap – but is well worth it!
@Teddi, I am glad that Victoire knew what was done in detail. I had referrals for a reputable plastic surgeon and after a frank discussion about what my expectations were, I was ready. I can’t say that I asked or even that I wanted to know what they were going to do. I might have run screaming out of the building.
Lisa, I hope your mom is feeling better. Perhaps the small kindnesses were offered to you not because you looked as if you needed looing after, but simply because a) you were in a hospital parking lot, and b) sometimes people want to connect with others. Having spent innumerable hours in varous hospitals with my mom in the past few years I can testify that people are generally kinder and more open there. And I always smile at people who are crossing in front of my car :)
@Cynthia, Mom seems to have been unchanged by the experience, except she kind of now seems to think she needs to buy the building she lives in. That will pass. And you are so right. Even right after I published this I thought – wait, maybe they were reacting to the signs of stress and tiredness on my face as much as or more than my age. Good for you, smiling at the walkers, the more smiles the better. xox.
The other day I was picking up some sandwiches in a shop I frequent that uses a scanner that looks like an iPad that you insert your credit card in. I’ve used it many times. My card has a silver logo that looks very similar to the chip on the other end of the card, and after two tries of mindlessly putting the wrong side in, the 17ish cashier kindly smiled and reached over and turned it around for me. Ugh! I’m sure she thought “poor old gal” and I felt compelled to hold up the card and show her the similarities and I’m sure it made it worse. I also have always looked young for my age until I was unexpectedly thrust into relationship drama and aftermath for a few years in my mid/late 50’s and since then I feel that I’ve caught up and then some (I just turned 63). I feel the same as always inside, and it’s been a little hard to accept the inevitable changes even though I know life has treated me more kindly than many. I will say, I am sure never to run out of hair vitamins!!
@MarlaD, You have reminded me that the rapid changes in machinery/electronics systems we have to touch in public do give us lots of opportunity to make mistakes or whatever that will often be assumed to be a result of our age. Which, it might be that, in my case, it might be something else, how can we know!?!
I think I ought to take your advice and stock up on hair vitamins. I’m already locked and loaded on probiotics;).
Well,I even had to check who Hayley Mills is (ok,I’ve seen The Parent Trap as a girl,but it must be about something else,no?)
Having spent ,similar to Cynthia,a lot of time in hospitals with my father ,I was thankful for “small” miracles :”…. the kindness of strangers” :-), coffee with the cream in hospital canteen,e-books on my phone…….
I hope that your mother is feeling better
I hope that you are feeling better,too and reconsidering the haircut,your hair is sooo beautiful!
Dottoressa
@dottoressa, Thank you. I am feeling better, but the ER does trigger my mild PTSD, as do doctors who tell me my mother wouldn’t be so anxious if I were calmer. I took this visit and the preceding incidents and follow up as a challenge to myself, could I a) ask for help when needed b) prove to those who needed proof that I wasn’t the anxiety-provoking factor.
I am sorry for your lots of time in hospitals for your dad. I hope you have a wonderful summer.
Those parking machine things can be fickle. I finally broke down and put the app on my phone. Those are annoying as well but you don’t do it standing in line with a bunch of foot tappers thinking you’re feeble.
I’m 1000% in favor of keeping ones’ Mom out of the hospital. What would you have done differently if the scan had shown an injury?
@RoseAG, Yes! I was tempted to tell the young guys that if only these machines had an app, and in fact I did suggest that maybe the network was down. I just couldn’t help myself.
We debated taking Mom in, of course. Anything we would have done would only have been to prevent any suffering that knowledge would help us prevent.
First all, somehow I missed your update on the alcohol conundrum. I have serious alcoholics on both sides of my family. I am not an alcoholic, but I could be with very little effort. Like you, I make the effort NOT to be. I’ve found that not drinking during the week and splitting a bottle of wine with my husband when we eat out or on Sunday nights when I tend to make a special dinner for the two of us works very well. It also keeps (some!) of the weight off. There are just some foods that cry out for a good cab and occasions that call for a glass of the bubbly. I’m glad that I didn’t pitch head first into an abusive relationship with alcohol so that I can enjoy it without feeling guilty. But I have to watch it. I would recommend Caroline Knapp’s book “Drinking: a Love Story.” Excellent read.
Regarding aging. I, too, was a pretty woman who has aged. Some days I can still look pretty damn good, but those days are dwindling. What I find infuriating about this state of age (you and I are the same age) is not necessarily how we look, because both of us are philosophical and intelligent and at some point you just have to let go of these things otherwise you’ll end up looking like a cabbage patch doll. But you hit the nail on the head. It’s how we are now treated. Or not treated, I guess is more to the point. It’s taking that, hey, we’re invisible at 45 to a whole new level. It’s the very bitter understanding that I won’t be taken seriously ever again even if I walk about the room tooting on a kazoo. I’m invisible on steroids. That what I want to accomplish might be completely disregarded because I’m 61 years old. I had a fledgling career as a mystery author. Nothing more than beach reads, but damn good beach reads, and for various reasons that got derailed. I’m trying to break into the fiction market now and am not having much success. And some of it is that I’m old. I feel the window of opportunity shrinking and it enrages me. My writing is a thousand times better than it was ten years ago, but my face and body haven’t kept up. And it matters. I have a writing friend who potentially scored a wonderful book contract, sounded like they were going to promote her like crazy, a real break-out scenario. And then they met her and she’s 45 and heavy. All talk of promotional $$$ stopped dead. She said to me, “It’s because I’m fat and too old.” She was right. At least I’m at a point in my life where I don’t get depressed, I get mad. Perhaps THAT’S the secret lining. We stop self-harming emotionally and start reaching for the pitchfork.
@Claire, I think I pitched further into the relationship than you did – I have backed out now to drinking 3 nights/week. I find I do better if one night during the week I allow myself two glasses of wine. This is still a step down to no more than 6 glasses/week, which is down from 7 which was down from 8, etc. I have to watch it like a hawk. People here have suggested that I should give it up altogether, but I still eat sugar, which can be just as bad for the brain, so for now I stay here. I might ratchet it back to no more than 1.5 glasses/night. We shallI see.
I certainly have made my process clear to my kids, and I reiterate that they should not fall into drinking every night because of our genetics.
As for Old While Writing, that is terrible. Especially since I am about 1/3 of the way through what would be my first novel ever, at 61. Let me indulge in black humor: I’ll just work on staying slender and also if ever I would have a lift of any sort it would be to get a book deal. But at this point I’m just working on finishing a first draft and will count that an accomplishment if I manage it, so my neck is safe for now.
I do agree, getting mad is better. And finding a community and rustling up support and getting mad together. Thank you for your comment.
@Claire, I have been thinking all weekend how mad I am for your friend. It’s appalling. To mention the obvious, can you imagine a man’s book being turned down because he was overweight and over 50?
Yes…”the scope of my ignorance”…I can relate.
I’ve heard myself say often to others (oh so, nonchalantly) that I desire to age with grace. I tell them how I wear almost no make-up now and it is so freeing and I think I look fine. I don’t tell them though that if my efforts don’t give me that “all natural, glowing, fresh look” that I am not beyond spending an inordinate amount of time in front of the 10X magnifying mirror until I have achieved something acceptable.
I tell my friends that I’m letting my hair go silver and, I am… until I hit that stage where too much silver I deem not so pretty begins to zap the color right out of me. I desire the “white” silver…(It will work much better with my complexion and the color of my eyes. :))
I tell my sister that I’ve accepted my body and I think it’s a great body that serves me well for my age…60’ish. And, I tell her that I exercise and eat well, now, in order to stay healthy so that I can be active and live well. But, what I don’t share with her is that I still hope somewhere inside that I’m going to get back to a size 8!
Just this past week, this ripening sage cleared her calendar…freeing herself from having to step outside her house because of the remnants of a scabbed cold sore on her upper lip…smack dab in the middle of it! Yes. Gross, perhaps too much information, but it was just a dark scab left that was still attached…holding on. Yet…that scab, smack dab in the middle of the upper lip exercised power over me.
DRATS!!!
“I hope I ripen before I rot,” says the burgeoning sage.
“Oh, just get on with it as you’ve been doing! You’re okay.” says the ignorant one :)
BTW, found your blog not too long, ago. I enjoy your style and humor!
@Saeh, Thank you for the kind words, and for the wonderful literate comment. Your “ripen before rot” reminds me of The Who.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qN5zw04WxCc
Yesterday, standing on an uptown #5 to Grand Central, a young man tapped me on the shoulder & offered me his seat. After thanking him, my 2nd thought was “where were you when I was heavily pregnant with twins?( the answer to that literally would have been “not born yet”),” & then my 3rd thought kicked in. Looking around the car, I was, at 56, the oldest woman.
@Mieke, Not born yet. Maybe these young men really love their mothers. Or, I guess more likely, their grandmothers.
With so many of us now in this age group, surely a truer picture of the competencies and weakness of age will emerge?
@Mieke, your comment on being the oldest on the train resonated with me. at 63, am noticing that I am often the oldest in the grocery store, a restaurant and definitely at yoga. but I am there. I say bravo for us!
Three years ago, The Atlantic did an extraordinary piece about the high failure rate of Alcoholics Anonymous.
AA is still held in high esteem despite that failure rate. Alternative therapies that are actually effective are ignored. One of them is low-dose Naltrexone, which has shown great results in many patients by taking away much of the desire to drink. It is after all a physical disease.
Here is the article. Worth the read.
https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2015/04/the-irrationality-of-alcoholics-anonymous/386255/
@Laurel, That is a fantastic article. And it makes so much sense to me. I only wish I’d known about the studies soon enough to help a family member.
The thing that never appealed to me about AA, other than the religious insistence, was the way everyone said they had to fight every day not to drink. If I am working almost every day not to drink too much, and I drink at the healthy limit, how is that worse?
@Lisa
It isn’t worse. As the article says, abstinence isn’t the answer for lots of people.
I’m dealing with an alcoholic who had a stroke. He can’t drink as much as he’d like right now, because he can’t drive.
I allow small amounts of alcohol and he is fine with it. We did have a terrible incident where he drank a whole large bottle of wine at the same time as taking his meds and experiencing vertigo. He fell with a crash and I found him with a table on top of him among broken glass and dissolving pills in water splashed everywhere.
He offered up an explanation that I finally understood. He gets so afraid of not knowing when he can expect his next drink, that he just downs it all at once.
Having an agreement that he gets small amounts each week helps and it hasn’t happened again.
I think we all pretend to not mind getting old but if we were truthful we tell a different story. The mirror, the dreaded mirror, tells the truth though. The thing is I don’t feel old inside and so go about my day without thinking about the wrinkles on what was once a pretty face. Until I catch a glimpse in a mirror. Can that really be me?! I feel small discussing a few wrinkles when others are contending with hardships of varying degrees. My life is good. Has always been good. But, the aging face….
@Joanna, I think we support each other best when we allow everyone to talk about what bothers them. So, no feeling small:).
I admit there are things I don’t like much about getting old but so far my face is way, way down on the list. I don’t like worrying about dementia, my aching hips, or waking up at night. I really don’t like knowing that I’ve very probably lived past the midpoint of my time. But at 61, to date, on balance, I still like being 61 more than any age I’ve experienced to date. Accumulated knowledge balances out lost raw neuron firing, in some ways my career achievements balance out a loss of attractiveness, a sense of acceptance is gradually replacing anxiety I didn’t use to understand. I’m probably no less anxious, but I’m less anxious about my anxiety.
Ha! Also I think I’m funnier than I was.
Clearly we will all experience this differently. The conversation is really useful, thank you.
Lisa, Don’t cut your hair. It is beautiful, frames your face wonderfully, and is consistent with your very youthful figure. You may or may not be right that you were offered help out of sympathy for an “old lady.” I try to always offer help if I see someone who needs it. Sometimes this is a woman struggling with a baby, a toddler, and a shopping cart. Sometimes it’s a driver trying to join heavy traffic. My goal is to offer help, although I’m sure that I’m often lost in my own thoughts and oblivious. As an “old lady,” I am profoundly grateful that I am still strong and healthy, that I can do many things for myself. There is free valet parking at my gym, but I prefer to park myself and walk because I can still do it. The same goes for lifting heavy (but not too heavy) objects. I want to do it for myself because I can, and because it’s good for my bones. I’ve told my sons not to take shopping bags or laundry baskets out of my hands (as is their instinct).
Sorry for the rambling, I’m not sure that it was helpful. I know that at 67 I’m invisible, and much of the time I like this in situation where I am out in public with strangers. I was quite attractive when I was younger and received a lot of unwanted attention. I don’t love the signs of age on my face and body. I am not considering surgery or botox, but I do take the time to learn about effective topical treatments that make a difference in my skin. And I have my hair colored.
@Marie, It’s very helpful. I share your feeling, “I want to do it for myself because I can, and because it’s good for my bones.” And I also think that learning now to appreciate offers of help, see them as kindness not condescension, is something I should start on right now.
Hope your Mom is doing better.
I thought the Kim France piece was…interesting. For me, the effort is less about beauty and more about looking like I made at least a minimal effort. Demonstrating a modicum of self-regard that says to the world, “I am not to be dismissed.”
Cut your hair only if it makes you feel good. But you knew that. ;-)
@Susan B, ‘Demonstrating a modicum of self-regard that says to the world, “I am not to be dismissed.”’ Yes. I am still invested in the part of style that is identity-signaling. And as such, I might cut my hair because I want it to clearly signal who I am.
BTW, by cutting it, I only mean to my shoulders;). At the moment even in a braid it’s below “bra line.” Eek.
Learning to let my stress and anxiety go when I was caring for my husband was the hardest thing. I could see how my own attitude could trigger his anxiety and also how if I was calm and accepting he would be as well. But it was difficult, and is difficult, and difficult not to have one too many glasses of wine.
When I was young I thought it would be easy to conquer family history, I thought as I grew older I would finally know the answers, and now I only see how hard I must work and how little I know. That is not a bad thing, although it would have seemed as such to my 20-something self.
Thank you for this lovely post, and here’s a hug for the next time you need it.
@Mardel, Aw thank you! I will keep the hug in my pock. Much appreciated. I agree, to have finally come to the limits of This Will Be Easy is not a bad thing. Any internal space freed from fighting is available for other pastimes. xox.
Hi Lisa, I’m so glad I found your blog. You’ve got a very engaged community of kindly women here. It’s great! Clearly, if you can run a blog you shouldn’t have any trouble using a card machine in a car park. :D I’ll bet those young guys were just being sweet. And isn’t that lovely? You did the right thing when you bit your tongue. Everyone likes to be needed; when young people (or anyone) does a kind thing for me I encourage them. It makes for a nicer world. It takes guts to run a blog, because you do have to have opinions. I think you’re doing a great job!
@Heather, Welcome! And the community is a real gift, so much intelligence and so much kindness. Thank you for the kind words. Also, “Everyone likes to be needed; when young people (or anyone) does a kind thing for me I encourage them.” That is the project I need to take on. Be less prickly out and about, more encouraging. xox.
Can you write a book? I love your voice as it comes through your writing. Please!
@Jb, Thank you! I am in fact slogging through the first draft of a novel right now. I think I’m about 1/3 of the way through. It’s what they call “upmarket genre,” meaning, neither full-on literary fiction nor a straight up piece of genre fiction. One of the things I try to balance, and will surely have to work on after I’ve finished this first draft, is how much of this voice – which is often plaintive and reflective – will work in a book that’s supposed to be at least moderately exciting and plot-driven.
We shall see! I haven’t said much about it here because, as I say above, I am so often proven wrong when I make pronouncements that I have developed a superstition about what I post. I’m not kidding. So I’m telling myself that since I am not predicting anything, only report what is actually occurring, that the forces of the universe will cut me some slack on what I am revealing in the comment thread. xoxox.
I plan to grow my hair…you look great in your longer locks…they remind me that we have the right to choose….feeling rebellious tonight!
The ER staff are used to seeing our elders and have oodles of experience…more so than those of us whose parents are in distress and have parking tickets to show for it!
Stay the course….my MIL will turn 100 in a few days and my husband’s cousins all want a party…MIL wil not know what the heck is going on but we will proceed and share in our tribute to her long life. Cake, balloons, and de-alcoholized bubbly!
Hope she will enjoy her day….
Thank you for being here Lisa…your words always resonate with me.
XO
@Bungalow Hostess, i encourage your rebellious self 100% I love your detail about the parking tickets and distress, that is exactly the conjunction of those hospital trips. Thank you for being here and on your blog too Leslie, your sweet self is a gift.
Hostess – love your hair short, but I think growing it is a splendid idea too. It’s such a great salt and pepper color! xo
A few years ago we were in Amsterdam. We took the tram to gt around and I have grey hair as you know. Well, every time I would step into the tram so many people would offer me their seat. All I thought was ” How polite the people in Amsterdam are. They offer a lady a seat.” It was days later that I realized they thought I was an older woman who needed a seat. I was incensed. How did they know I was old? Never even thought about my hair.
But I guess age is creeping up. Today I had lunch with friends of 64 years. Yes, we’ve known each other and been besties for years. 3 of us had canes, one just had surgery for a rotator cuff. Two of us will be able to rid ourselves of the canes, one not. The rotator cuff is fixed. We had a ball being together.Looked great I thought. Lucky to be here. Not sure what I’m trying to say. Maybe that’s it. Lucky to stillbe here. Canes, rotators, we’re all still carrying on our lives.
@Sandra Sallin-Apart From My Art, “Canes, rotators, we’re all still carrying on our lives.” Yes. I read somewhere that those who keep a positive attitude about aging empirically suffer less. Unsurprising. Also, I never think of you as having gray hair, it’s so elegant, somewhere in my mind I imagined you dyed it silver! Ha! See? It’s all in the attitude.
Great post and comments on a topic I find my mind turning to with some measure of frequency now, especially as my friends and I embrace a birthday giving us a number that seems more like a speed limit than an age. Seeing genetics play out in your body is a kind of reckoning I hadn’t prepared for. My youthful naïveté let me believe I would get to hang on to my looks the way my mother did but what I see in the mirror now are some issues my dad displayed at this same age. I suspect I will wrestle with this mirror disconnect until my aging gets cumulative enough for me to arrive at a new version of what I believe I look like.
Re addictions: Mine is unquestionably sugar though it could easily have been alcohol based on my family tree. I am motivated by vanity at this point to dial back my sugar intake because I can literally see a difference on my face. Too much and the bags under my eyes puff up like moist teabags!
My friends and I marvel that we have actually come this far. And for all of the discomfiting aspects of aging we confront and disclose, there is an awakening sense of wonder and unadulterated joy that we are, indeed, still here!
@Mary, Speed limit. Seems right;). “I suspect I will wrestle with this mirror disconnect until my aging gets cumulative enough for me to arrive at a new version of what I believe I look like.” I find, as I have probably said, that aging feels like going up stairs. Except rather than even steps, it’s like we bump from landing to landing. A new landing is always disorienting, I just hope I can embrace the one I’m on before I ascend to the next.
Thank you!
A very welcome discussion! I agree with friends and family who assure me that my grey looks much better than my dyed hair two years ago, but I have noticed more kindness and helpfulness directed my way as I move around with my very stylish Swedish rolling walker. At first, like many of you, I felt a bit disheartened that my determined efforts to appear youthful and independent were falling short, but I’ve learned to relax and enjoy these attentions which give me a sense of security that I can rely on the kindness of strangers which I will need even more as I approach my mid 70s.
In part, this discussion reminds me of arguments about the small courtesies of men toward women that many believed undermined our struggles for gender equality. As THAT generation, perhaps we are especially sensitive to any implication of incompetence.
As to alcohol, I am loathe to cut back my nightly glasses of wine, but, recognizing the need, will try the 7 glasses per week schedule. Such a good idea!
Thanks to Lisa and all of you for sharing thoughts and experiences on this blog.
@Sharon Daly, Thank you for reading and commenting. I am beginning to think that I was lucky in what happened the other day – maybe my distress showed on my face, bringing me the kindly response a little in advance of what my age alone might have done. That way I have a change to take your attitude now, before I need to. To accept kindness without annoyance now, without bristling at any perceived offense. A privilege.
It was hard each time I cut back a little, alcohol is tricky and finds way to break through limits, but I feel better all the time. And the nights of abstinence are often my best sleep. Not always, but often enough to give me even more incentive.
Oh my dear… you are still pretty… even if it doesn’t matter to you anymore. But now you have me wondering if the kindness of strangers to me and my 90 year old mum when we had a day out recently was entirely down to her being 90. Hmmm.
Also wanted to say that at my book club yesterday, I announced that I was having a cataract removed, and then said that at almost 62 I was “young for that.” And my friend said that at 62 we take every opportunity we can to be “too young.” And then we fell over laughing. I find it helps to have friends who are also not often too young for anything anymore … but cataract surgery. Ha.
@Sue Burpee, I think you were treated well in part because people love to see us take care of our parents. And because you are pretty perhaps. But yes, also kindness for the aged. Which I will no longer brush off. And falling over laughing is the best – if we can’t laugh at all this why even bother?
I’m heartened by strangers offering to help anyone at any time. Let’s all work to keep that going and not take offense where none is intended. If we make others uneasy or afraid to offer assistance, the world will be a colder place.
@Kris Lindquist, I have realized, in the course of the conversation here, that I bristled because the offers of help threatened the identity I carry with me. Insults to my looks don’t threaten me, yet, somehow they don’t threaten my self. So, time to incorporate my possible weaknesses into my identity, as well as working hard to stay strong. It’s a huge task, hard for me, but so worth doing. Because as you say, who wants a cold world?
How wonderful that your mother welcomed people to the ER and wanted to make sure that there were beds for all. Character prevails, notwithstanding the dementia, and she remains (or perhaps has become) gracious.
As for aging, I transitioned to mostly-white hair starting three years ago, thanks in part to your good example, and immediately, and happily, noticed a marked increase in how often I’m offered a seat on the subway. Instead of worrying about age, I try to focus on keeping in shape, and I love how strong I feel when I really put in the effort to challenge myself. It turns out that standing up straight and looking at the world with interest and optimism keeps you looking good – which means that you’ll look great for a long time to come.
@MJ, I love this.
Mom’s hospitality has emerged as her truest self. Often in her delusions, you can make out in her language fragments that she is preparing for a visit from her children.
And I too try to focus on staying in shape, nutrition, and a certain peace of mind. Thank you for the vote of confidence. It’s very good to have such good company.
When people are kind, we have to learn to say thank you. I still, from pride, refuse the seats offered to me on trains, but I do so politely (as I am sure you do).
A few years ago I had a personal trainer with whom I trained out of doors. When she went on holiday she left me a routine to do on my own, which included rolling under some wooden bars at a ‘fitness station’. Being clumsy I slightly hit my head. When a young man came up to ask if I was OK, I said yes, fine, thinking he had seen me hit my head. I hadn’t thought about the fact that the best rolling position involved an arm across my chest until he said ‘I thought you were having a heart attack’. First thought was indignation but then I realised how kind and responsible he was being, and managed to say thank you!
As for looking younger, I have always looked younger than my age, from a babyish teenager onwards. Everybody has told me so. Until I met my current partner just over two years ago, just after my 60th birthday. From the way he looks at other people and says they don’t look 60 or don’t look 50 or whatever, I realise he doesn’t think I look young for my age. I am tempted to say ‘but don’t I look young’ because, for no good reason, it was a source of pride. But I don’t. Because he loves me and he finds me attractive, so why should I also insist on that ?
@Ruth, So great. First, he thought you were having a heart attack, you were so gracious in response! I applaud you. And, of course, he did the right thing.
I too have always looked younger than my age. And, I too now look 60. It is largely because of my hair, but also my marionette lines and other things I can’t be bothered to deal with. So, I look 60. So what? Isn’t there something great about being 60?
I know, it is so weird. Young men offer to carry my suitcase for me when I am travelling by train and I even got called dear a couple of years ago but a barman who was plainly in a spin about what to say when I ordered a drink. In my head I am as I have always been but obviously I look my age. Thank the Maker. Imagine if I was still trying to look as I did in my 20s. Or try to act in same manner. That just doesn’t bear thinking about.
@Annie Green, “Imagine if I was still trying to look as I did in my 20s. Or try to act in same manner. That just doesn’t bear thinking about.” Absolutely.
I don’t like it when they call me “Miss” at the supermarket, I mean, they aren’t fooling me. I’d really rather be called “Ma’am.” Or, as previously here, “sexy for an old lady” is OK too.
“Life’s tragedy is that we get old too soon and wise too late.” – Benjamin Franklin
Hi Lisa, trim off your old lady, hippy braid. Shoulder length will still give you style options. Dye your hair back to golden blonde to match your current photo. And ditch the “fashionable” dusty rose lipstick for a more flattering coral. That will knock 20 years off your look and your image will match the vibrant, youthful you inside.
Don’t listen to the other women who say “gray is the way”. They just don’t want you competing with them! No honest man actually wants to be with a woman with gray hair. It makes HIM look older, too.
There, I said it! Totally non-P.C. and proud of it!
Carol
@Carol, There are studies that contradict what you believe.
One study of online dating showed that older women with visible gray hair got more inquiries from men than women with dyed hair. The hypothesis was that the women with gray hair might have seemed more confident in who they were and (dare I say) more honest.
Another study showed that people are able to identify the age of a woman even when her hair is dyed because there are other signs of age besides hair.
In other words, dye your hair if that’s how you like it, but don’t expect to fool anyone.
@Carol, Let me say first that I really do enjoy your presence here. And I applaud your persistence and resilience. You come here as a minority opinion often, and you keep at it with good cheer. So, thank you and a hug.
Now, in terms of what you say here, I am not remotely offended. But let’s talk. The political part of the gray hair is true, and you and I are in different camps. So let’s set that aside. But we can address some plain points of fact. First, the photo on the blog is from my wedding. My hair had already gone gray. Also, a man asked me to marry him when my hair had gone gray. So, small sample, but gray hair did not get in the way of my relationships.
Second, you’ve said several times you think I am a Spring. I can promise you 100% that I am not. I look purely horrid in yellow-toned clothes. I know this for a fact. And my mother and sisters can wear those shades, and do, so it’s not like I’ve never been near a fern green, or an aqua. I have. I look awful. So I wear that lipstick not for fashion but out of vanity. It makes me look as pretty as I’m going to look at this point – given that I hate dyeing my hair and I don’t want anyone poking my skin and putting weird stuff in its lower layers.
I’m very curious, what makes you think I should wear coral lipstick?
Again, I welcome your participation and I really thank you for it. xoxo.
I’m late to comment here — read the piece and many of the great comments yesterday but was still overwhelmed by helping welcome a little guy into the family. I have mixed feelings about this, as you do. Mostly, I feel what you expressed at France’s piece at The Cut (didn’t feel like signing in there, so I haven’t read your full comment — just your excerpt here). Sometimes, though, when I’m feeling vulnerable, I can suddenly wish those I meet superficially could see a fuller view of me. I wish I didn’t have to convince a perky young doc (the third locum I’ve had to see in six months!), at next week’s appointment that I’ve got all kinds of savvy and wit and brain cells. That the young salesclerk would notice my cool shoes instead of my grey curls and chat with me as she did with the very cool young woman in line ahead of me…
But I also remember how keen many of my students were to engage with me because of some combination they perceieved of age and experience and maybe a wee bit of some kind of cool. Or not cool. I do think that often the kind of kindness or deference you experienced is a reaching-out, an engagement, by a generation that doesn’t always know how to breach a perceived gap but is willing, even keen to. . . .
I also remember that the distance between your mother’s age and yours was narrow, as mine was. So I wonder if your temporary retreat from the position you expressed at The Cut has to do with wanting to keep your respective places on the timeline as distinct as you possibly can. I’m probably projecting my own stuff here; obviously you should feel free to disregard.
xo
@Frances/Materfamilias, Congratulations again on the little guy. Welcome to the world little one! And yes, all those moments you describe I have experienced as well, wanting to reassert my identity beyond the impact of my visible age. I do need to embrace the reaching out in person – I have gotten so used to online friendships with younger people, where it’s easy to forget we are decades apart, and where they have known me long enough that they have plenty of data to form an accurate picture.
In terms of being close or far in age from my mother, I hadn’t considered that. It’s possible. interesting food for thought.
To clarify: I don’t mean that you have always cared about emphasizing the difference in ages between your mother and you. Only that perhaps that relatively small distance could appear ominous in the face of what you’re helping your mother through this last few years. So it has been for me, both in her last months and since her death five years ago.
This reminds me when my I took my mother (who has dementia) to the ER. When she was later admitted and was being pushed down the corrider to her hospital room by an orderly, thought she was in a hotel, and insisted on giving him a tip.
At some point you just have give up and enjoy the ride.
@Kaye, Totally enjoy the ride when enjoyment presents itself.
My mom, upon returning to her residence after this latest trip to the hospital, thought she’d never been there before and that she’d have to buy the house.
Does anyone else get annoyed when younger people call old people “cute” or “adorable”?
It’s horribly patronizing.
@Laurel, yup. of course, i also don’t actually KNOW any older people who could be called either of those things, pejoratively or otherwise – most of the older people i know are either harshly unpleasant (my eldest relatives) or badass (the septuagenarian men and women i’ve befriended through a handful of volunteer gigs with participants of all ages).
i occasionally wonder if i at 39 am that “cute” elder for the teen volunteers, and am more than a bit horrified at the prospect. that said, if they want to give me their seats I WILL TAKE THEM.
@Laurel, I’m thinking you fall into the badass category for your teen buddies.
Also, I agree about calling old people cute, except, in the case of dementia, when the old person reverts to a kind of childlike behavior, then cute does feel right. It’s endearing, that innocence that shows up now and then.
Hi Laurel, there are plenty of “studies” to support any position you want to take. Many older people who dye their hair use a color that is too dark. A version several shades lighter than their pre-gray color can be quite flattering. Naturally, you must keep it up with regular color and conditioning. Eyebrow color, lipstick and blush must be adjusted to match as well. Teen and 20-somethings can get away with all kinds of color mistakes. Once you are over 30, forget it!
As for “more inquiries” for gray-haired ladies, maybe that means that those who inquire think the gray-haired ladies will have money or be more desperate for dates.
I suggested this for Lisa because I think her hair color and style makes her look older than she is.
@Carol, Oh gosh no bringing the concept of fake news (i.e. studies mean nothing) to my hair color, I beg you;). I don’t think my hair color makes me look older than I am, but it definitely allows me to look my age. And if I dyed it, and got some injectables in my face, I could look younger for sure.
@Carol, I have never known a man who desired to date “desperate” women.
Most men have too much confidence, if anything, and seek to date the most attractive women they can find. Maybe many of them are attracted to women with gray hair.
You contradict yourself wildly, Carol. You say no man wants to be with a woman with gray hair, then you say they ask them out because maybe they think they are desperate or have money.
I’m sorry that you are evidently so afraid of your husband’s love that you groom yourself a certain way out of fear.
BTW, my own mother married a second time in her forties and she was prematurely going gray and embraced it. Matter of fact, she got more compliments on her hair when she stopped dying it. Perception of age is more in the face, and her face was gorgeous.
@Carol, also I just realized you are referring to my avatar photo here. I think it’s time to replace that with a more recent one!
I read this many times before I was ready to comment – had to coalesce my feelings.
I have a struggle with aging. I was OK until I turned 65 in August, and somehow, getting Social Security, Medicare, etc. just hit me very hard emotionally. It’s not about my looks, it’s about being closer and closer to the inevitable. Don’t like it, and never will – but I’m learning to accept it.
Exactly this – and I imagine that in 4 years it will hit me even harder. That’s why I spend more time on building my capacity for serenity, which is low, than on improving my looks.
Lisa, I hope you know that have only the best wishes for you. I did not realize that “gray” hair was a political statement but, apparently it is for some people. I just want people to look the best they can look. If gray works, great! But you are the one who mentioned you were drifting into “Aunt EM” territory. Why did I suggest coral lipstick for you? Because many of the flowers in your wedding bouquet were in the coral range and I thought the color looked nice with your skin tone. Just my opinion.
By the way, I did not say “Fake News” but maybe it was. I said that you can find “studies to support any position”… Come on, you are an intelligent, educated, well season woman. Do you only look at studies that support what you want to believe? Is your intellect unable to overcome cognitive dissonance?
Laurel used the word “hypothesis” in her explanation why women with gray hair appeared to attract more men in the “study”. She provided the PC answer. I provided an alternative answer. Hypothesis is scientific term for “guess”. Webster goes into more detail: “Hypothesis implies insufficient evidence to provide more than a tentative explanation.” Therefore, my “guess” is as good as the study’s, Laurel’s or your “guess”.
But, hey! You want to be gray, gay or fey. Go for it!
Smiles, Carol
Let’s agree to disagree about studies – I think there are ways to determine if they are more reliable than guesses and opinions, but that’s OK. I am so glad you told me where you get the idea I should wear more coral, my bouquet did have pale apricot tones – as well as pink, bronze, cream, etc. The difference there was a) it was August. I do get warmer-toned in the summer, especially on my hands and arms. I used to even have to change out foundation colors because I’d be so much warmer-toned! But my face doesn’t change much, and as I’ve aged the blood seems to show more, so warm tones conflict with the redding of my face and my blue undertones. Like wearing orange and purple, if that makes sense.
Like I said, I really do value and enjoy your presence here. Thanks so much. xoxo
@Carol, Damn. Lisa is being kinder than I am capable.
I think when you say you “just want people to look the best they can look” and it involves changing something about their natural self, it really insulting.
You may think whatever you want, but to voice to someone that their natural self doesn’t look very good, is horrible.
It’s one thing to suggest what makeup colors compliment a person, because it’s not an attack on the person’s face and body. It’s a whole other thing to insist that someone needs to change the natural color of their hair or get injections because they aren’t good enough the way they are.
Rude!!!
You’ve obviously hit on 2 sensitive nerves: changes in one’s appearance (and the way others react) as one ages, and how to deal with parental aging.
Nerve #1: There are plenty of vital, “swinging” ladies with grey/silver hair: Helen Mirren, Christine Lagarde etc. As long as it is shiny, bouncy, healthy-looking (whatever its length), people admire it. Young women try to emulate it by dyeing their hair silver…quite the rage recently. The more sensitive issue is skin changes, expression lines, gravity reaching out and grabbing us….What one does about that is intensely personal: from zen-like acceptance to intermittent minimal procedures to anxious trials of every costly potion and surgical intervention. Where is the happy, comfortable position? That’s a personal choice.
Regarding becoming invisible: sometimes that happens, sometimes that doesn’t. I have observed, though that it seems less likely to happen if people appear vital and involved, have self-confident body language, are articulate, appear to have great ideas and experience, and are perceived as being generous with those latter 2 gifts- especially to those who are near or dear to you. Whether one becomes invisible to passersby may seem less important under those circumstances.
Nerve #2 – I have to get back to work now, but I have a couple of thoughts for tomorrow
@sensitive poet, I love everything you said.
@sensitive poet, “What one does about that is intensely personal: from zen-like acceptance to intermittent minimal procedures to anxious trials of every costly potion and surgical intervention.”
For me, 61 is when I’m finally facing that choice more seriously. Thank you for such an eloquent comment.
I am laughing a bit at your experience at the hospital parking garage. Yesterday, I went shoe shopping for casual shoes that one can walk around in at length. The shoe salesman pointed out that a particular pair could handle orthotics if I need them. Since I don’t wear orthotics and never think about them and because the man had an accent that made his pronunciation a bit different, I had to ask him three times what the word was that he was saying. Nothing like appearing to be hard of hearing as well as looking like I need orthotics!
@Susan D., Hahahaha! I am in fact losing some of my hearing, so, I’m laughing knowingly:).
About hair color. I always say that my hair is turning white–which it is. I get a bit offended (privately) when people refer to my gray hair. While I keep that feeling to myself, it is there. I’ll be 66 later this month and I definitely look my age these days. I don’t know if you ever saw a photo of me (posted on FB)
standing in front of a San Francisco bookstore looking young–I was already 60 years old in that photo, but there has been a lot of water under the bridge since then. I’m trying to embrace the idea that I am truly a grandma type now. It’s not always easy.
@Susan D., I don’t remember the specific photo, but I promise from now on I will always think of your hair as white, not gray. My hair isn’t really gray either, now that I think about it, it’s blonde, a grayish brown, and white, all mixed.
I think I love your Mom! What a great attitude….ER as a sleep over and welcoming everyone who walked into it!
When I hit 55 I had a revealing moment. A 30 something offered to assist me down an icy path ???? WTF kid I am not that old and then it hit me. It is not about how old I feel , (as I will always feel old) but it is about accepting others kindness when offered. Old age is about grace…..your MOM has it in spades. Lucky you have a great teacher. Hope you are both well!
@barb,
“Old age is about grace” – I like that! And you’re right, Lisa’s mom has that in spades, and always has.
I think old age is about having the luxury of “choosing” – where to put your energy, your time, your attention, what to gracefully release, what to joyfully engage – and to begin gliding, rather than slipping and sliding and lurching and limping, over all the bumps in life’s road.
We deserve it!
@barb, Accepting kindness. A deep lesson. And mom is and always has been immensely hospitable, with a real love of the company of people. It is a kind of grace, although in truth I never used to see it that way, because society changed so much between my generation and hers.
Very late to the party here, but still… just to say that I think this journey of aging and changing appearance is one that we have to keep negotiating at different stages.
I’m am old first time mum with a lot of wrinkles and I’m struggling not to be too down on myself or compare too much with other mothers who are much thinner, stronger, fresher faced. It’s a kicker that we lose so much hair as well as hanging on to the weight while breastfeeding (and eating cake to compensate for tough parenting moments/ lack of sleep). That and bags under my eyes make for a pretty rough ride, appearance-wise.
I expect/ hope I’ll improve a bit over time (I’m already growing a crop of baby hair and working on diet and exercise) but my 40s trudge on and soon enough it’ll be me facing 50, then 60, God willing…
At least old is better than dead! :)
@Eleanorjane, Congratulations again on your baby. I don’t think anyone needs think of the first year after a baby as a snapshot of their appearance, luckily! Looking back, I think I was the most attractive of all when I was in my 40s. So I say your best look is yet to come., if you want it.
As a peer, I see you as highly intelligent, accomplished and well rounded overall. A joy. All great attributes. Daily interactions reveal shallow people. I take it for what it is and quickly write it off as not important. Ageism is a reality, especially for women. Not right but reality. My view is, if someone discriminates (based on age) it is their loss not mine. Onward and upward. As women, we can not allow these social stigmas get to us. Your blog provides a wonderful place for all women to express their experiences and thoughts. For this, I thank you. I can’t wait to read your book!
@Susan, As I thank you for reading, commenting, supporting. I try to be worth my keep in this world, I often fail, but I never stop trying. And, speaking of which, I’m trying with the book to incorporate themes from our blog discussions. But I have to say, fiction is HARD. I have even more respect now than before for the novelists among us.
If people are being kind to you, that’s a sign of good in the world, right? I’d try to see it as glass-half-full if possible. You are obviously who you are right now and so, own it. Give kindness in return and try not to over analyze. :)
P.S. I just turned 48 and am growing a fine set of smile lines. If that’s bad, I really don’t want to hear about it.
@Karen, Totally not bad! I am now focused on taking kindness where it comes, however, I am stuck with overanalyzing as I know no other way to approach the world;).
A young man in my kitchen, fixing the tap (faucet) turned to me and asked “Do you have grandchildren?” O.U.C.H.!!!
Actually, how I age is exactly in line, five years behind, with my sister, so I can see the future, and neither of us minds it. We are in our 60s, but our mother died 57 years ago, aged only 45. We will happily take greying hair, wrinkles and aches and pains. We are here!
@Linda, And how wonderful to have a sister with whom you have a “We.” We are here indeed.
Love your blog, love your style. One thing that is rampant on all senior blogs is the Emperor’s New Clothes thing where people pretend that getting older is a good thing. If you phrased the question, not about being happy or content, but if you could live your life frozen in one particular time, there isn’t a woman on the planet who would pick their 50s or 60s or whatnot. Everyone would pick 20-35, pre-menopause, pre-invisibility, when life has possibilities and choices and is not about making do. Your daughter’s age. Being happy and content is what pets are, it’s how we turn as life narrows and we try to put a positive spin on things.
I prefer Judi Dench’s comment “There’s nothing good about being my age. Someone said to me, ‘You have such a wealth of knowledge,’ and I just said ‘I’d rather be young and know nothing, actually.’ Bugger the wealth of knowledge.” I love the Brits for their candor.
@Vera-D., Thank you very much. So, here’s the thing. There are things I don’t like about aging, i.e. everything hurts way more often and my remaining days on this earth are fewer and fewer.
Unless I exercise more, which, one might argue, will add days.
But otherwise, so far, I would rather be 60 than 20, for sure. Rather be 60 than 30. And, given the course of my life in my 40s and 50s, rather be 60 than 40 or 50.
Of course I’d like to be 60 with the pain free body and life expectancy of a 30 year old but I think that’s a stretch goal;). xoxo.
Hi Lisa,
I have enjoyed reading this thoughtful post on aging and all the comments. I am now 62 and have gone salt and pepper. I receive compliments on how nice it looks all the time, but I am aware that my friends who are the same age and still color their look younger. Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice. I try to focus instead on eating a healthy diet and exercising. My goal is avoid becoming a woman who falls and can’t get up! My son told me I should be doing burpees. Thank you for the wonderful discussion.
@Marilyn Leslie, And thank you for the kind and practical comment. I took wonder if I made and am making the right choice, and I too focus instead on eating healthily and increasing my exercise.
I will not however be doing burpees;). How about a good crescent lunge and long hikes, will that suffice?:)
Nerve #2 Aging and eventual death of one’s parents …that’s a very sensitive and jarring one. In the past several years, we’ve lived through the aging and death of 3 of our 4 parents and parents in law (one died just a little older than the age we currently are, over 20 years ago).
What I am glad of, in this very difficult set of circumstances, is having had a reasonably good resolution of even difficult parental relationships, prior to their death. Reasonably good, not perfect, of course.
Two parents died suddenly and unexpectedly, and I’m happy for them that they had a quick and merciful death. One parent I had had a very complex relationship with, he was hard to get along with (with nearly everybody!) but we managed to enjoy a sushi lunch together, he was in a jolly mood, and I was enjoying the food and company. We embraced, said goodbye, and 3 days later he died suddenly while we were on vacation (his ever-patient wife was with him when he died in the hospital, so he did not die alone). Another parent who died suddenly was my father-in-law, whom I respected and loved deeply. He died suddenly in the hospital after a relatively minor procedure. We did not live in the same city, but I am glad that every time we said goodbye, we had a warm embrace, so the last (unexpected) time was a good one (like all the others before).
My mother-in-law, deteriorated relatively rapidly over the course of 2 years, of dementia (she who had been a brilliant University professor!) She moved to live in the same city of us, but treasured her independence, and wanted to live on her own, intially. She began to deteriorate fairly rapidly and was repeatedly hospitalized for recurrent orthopedic problems (fractured hip, ankle, infected surgical sites). I am glad my husband and/or I were able to be there for her each time, and at the end we held a vigil together as she slowly ebbed away in palliative care. We talked to her as she started to fade, I felt her hands gradually lose their warmth, and took off her wedding ring and gave it to my husband. Then we left, hand in hand, deeply moved, and walked out of the hospital as the sun rose for a new day.
Bottom line: to the extent it is possible, try to repair these complex relationships, be there for your aging parents, try to face these difficulties if possible with your partner or your sibling(s).
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