Accepting Aging

As my mother used to say, getting old ain’t for sissies

The author with a butterfly friend at the Philadelphia Flower Show

At age 65, I’ve commenced counting last-time-evers. The last time ever in my life I made a hook shot. The last time ever I bobbed in the ocean. The last time ever I made love without a blue pill. For me, aging is a series of last-time-evers, no matter how much I fight it. If we’re lucky and live long enough to earn discounts to the movies, turning old comes for us all.

To sum up my life today, I tell people, “I got old early.” About a dozen years ago, I retired and went on Social Security disability due to a rare genetic disease that deforms my joints and bones. I walk with a HurryCane (“As Seen on TV”) hunched over like the old people my much younger self belittled in my mind. I’m fortunate to have no gray hair yet, but I look in the mirror and see a grouchy resting face, rather than a bright wrinkle-free smile.

I take around 30 drugs and multivitamins a day for various maladies and use a fentanyl patch for severe chronic pain. In Raiders of the Lost Ark back in the ’80s, Harrison Ford, who is now 80 and recently played the title character again in Indiana Jones and The Dial of Destiny, said to actress Karen Allen’s character, “It’s not the years, honey. It’s the mileage.” Old guy reference to the days when cars weren’t digital: I’ve turned over the odometer.

I understand that many 60-somethings are in better shape than I am. For many who have exemplary DNA, take care of themselves, and don’t have family histories of dread disease, acute aging comes later.

I always feel like a loser when I see stories about senior overachievers like 77-year-old no-worse-for-wear Cher, a 73-year old who is attempting a world-record 35,000-foot jump from a hot air balloon to honor veterans, or an 88-year-old running his 84th marathon. Most of us aren’t iron men or iron women, though. Like humans throughout history, we face decline as we get old.

My mother, who lived to 83, said it best, though likely not first: “Aging ain’t for sissies.”

It takes determination, strength, and resilience to age gracefully, yet many of us spend enormous time, effort, and money fighting it tooth and nail. One estimate predicts the value of the anti-aging market will grow to $421.4 billion by 2030. Nowadays, several tech startups are focused on hacking aging, pathologizing it like a disease that can be cured rather than a natural phase of life. My inbox is stuffed with scam spam for skin tag removal, enlarged prostate cures, and “the world’s most comfortable seat cushion.” I wonder, how does the internet know about my sore coccyx?

Fighting aging takes not only a financial toll but also a psychological one. When you’re a senior, it’s difficult mentally to always feel not quite good enough. The shame may come from others, such as family members who say, “You look tired” or “You need to smile more,” or people who point out, “You don’t look your age” when you wear makeup and dye away gray, and especially those who stare when you move slowly or have a handicap caused by age like I do.

But most often, we put pressure to be younger on ourselves. In our minds, we are eternally 35; we fervently wish that we could skip the inevitable degeneration of getting older. We can’t quite bring to mind the name of a celebrity and immediately fear that dementia is lurking just around the corner. Then marketers tell us, “Don’t worry. There’s a pill for that.”

Others say, “Age is just a number,” while conveniently forgetting that it ultimately has our number. As he was wasting away, Jimmy Buffett texted a friend: “I have learned one thing from my latest in a series of the ever-appearing speed bumps of life — 75 is not the new 50. Thinking younger doesn’t quite do it.”

I’m not arguing that we should sit around in our favorite La-Z-Boys, slowly turning to dough. The old standbys to delay decline — exercising; eating right; and seeing doctors regularly — should be part of all our days. Don’t give up — just let go.

I’m advocating for acceptance, which is powerful, healthy, and makes our lives easier. This entails totally embracing the reality of getting older and shedding the shoulds, woulds, and coulds of how life might be different. Cease the severe self-judgment, guilt, and shame about aging that we’ve been taught. We’ve earned our age and understand the world enough to be confident in our own skin.

Authentic acceptance is not a weakness; it’s a virtue.

By getting old early, I’ve come to terms with my aging. I feel healthier mentally and physically by not continuing to bemoan my condition and worry about how unjust it is. Like my mom, I’ve decided to accept the last-time-evers and age gracefully.

Here are some things I’ve learned from the front lines of aging:

Exercise your brain. Acceptance is enhanced by keeping your mind distracted and engaged. I read The New York Times, The Philadelphia Inquirer, and The Boston Globe, among other credible sources, to stimulate my thinking, but if news depresses you, try, for example, doing crossword, jigsaw, number, or word puzzles to keep your brain fit.

Watch your drugs. As we age, doctors may order medicine to treat common conditions such as high blood pressure or cholesterol, but often don’t stop them for the rest of patients’ lives. This results in what’s called a “prescribing cascade” that leads seniors to take dozens of medications, the combination of which may have dangerous or undesirable side effects. Don’t accept that doctors are paying attention; periodically ask your pharmacist or go online to double-check what you’re prescribed for possible problems.

Find a purpose. Aging and retirement can sap your sense of purpose. A meaningful life is more acceptable, richer, and healthier. For instance, I use my writing skills to volunteer to help my church with its communications. Others do activities that ease the loneliness of aging for themselves and others, such as delivering meals to shut-ins, visiting assisted living residents, or regularly calling vulnerable individuals from a list of seniors provided by their county’s office on aging.

Nurture resilience. You’ve already shown how resilient you are by going through all the changes we’ve seen in our lifetimes. (How many times have we heard the world was ending?) Nurture that quality in yourself. With aging comes loss, not just of physical and mental abilities but of loved ones such as a partner. Those who don’t mope but can cope and hope do better.

Randall H. Duckett is an essayist and author of Seven Cs: The Elements of Effective Writing who can be contacted through randallhduckett.com.