On Being Age 70

I turned age 70 last July and I am still trying to figure out how it happened. Even though I have 2 sons one who just turned 48 in January and the other who will be 45 in August I don’t feel 70. When I am doing Zumba with my younger coworkers I am able to keep up. My 9 grandchildren who range in age from age 3 to almost 22 keep me young. My husband is still working full time, but we make time to attend all our grandchildren’s school activities and travel to Europe and Israel to visit with family and sight see.
I graduated from Bellevue Nursing School in 1961, 8 years before the school closed and in 1987 I got my BS in Human Resource Management/Psychology after many years of taking one course at a time. As a nurse I have worked in many different disciplines, OR, OB, Med/Surg, ER and finally many years as an Occupational Health Nurse. Each rotation taught me new nursing functions. I am proud of my ability to be able to continue to learn, even as I grow older. I continue to work 1-2 days a week. I enjoy interacting with people and I hope to be able to continue working a little while longer.

Good luck with your project!
Rosalie Weinberg Kesselman, Hunter College High School, 1958

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Conversation in Albany, N.Y.

Ellen, Age 70

I just hosted a gathering of ten 70 year-old women at my home. It was lovely. Three themes came up I hadn’t heard before. The first was concern about money from divorced and widowed women, all of whom were well-educated professionals. The second was a worry shared by many of us of not knowing where we will wind up living. Which city, state, what home, move closer to kids or not, stay put with no family nearby, etc. We agreed we did not worry about this in prior decades. The third added a new layer to the club sandwich. We’ve talked before on this blog about caretaking parents and children and spouses. Some in the group tonight served as caretakers for siblings, as well. Lest you think the tone of the gathering was glum, I assure you it was inspiring and fun. Many of the group wished we could meet again. Enjoying this age we’re at like no other was a prevailing view. One woman said if anything goes awry, her mantra is to say to herself “Next!” and move on. Everyone agreed keeping busy was easy but also important. Some were working full-time, others fully retired. Everyone agreed it was a lot easier now to be true to yourself, that gratitude is important, and that life is good.

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Time to Retire

Evelyn, Age 70

People told me that I would know when it was time to retire, but I was skeptical. Then one day I received a call from a favorite client, for whom I had recently written a report. He said that he loved the report and wanted to have a meeting with all his colleagues so that I could present my findings and recommendations. He said he had cleared the time of Tuesday at 8AM with everyone, and looked forward to seeing me then. I responded without hesitation that I couldn’t make it at 8AM on Tuesday. He sounded very surprised, and asked whether I had another client meeting at that time. I said, calmly but firmly, “I have another commitment at that hour”. I suddenly realized that my yoga class was more important than this wonderful client, and immediately knew that this was my sign.

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Ellen’s 70 Story

Ellen Cole, Age 70

First off, I have to make the font at least 14 so I can read what I’m writing, even with my reading glasses on. I must have ten pairs of reading glasses scattered throughout the house. Right now I can only find the pair on my nose. So that’s another story: memory. You all know what they say: CRS disease? Yup, I have that, too. In fact my favorite book this past year, because it was so confirming, was Nora Ephron’s I Remember Nothing. Run don’t walk to the bookstore to buy it, if you haven’t already. Or download it on your Kindle. I did both, in case I couldn’t find one them, of course. My favorite chapter is the last, “The O Word,” standing for (if you have the kind of mind I have) not what you think. “O” is for “old.” I don’t want to recap it here, except to say the chapter is hilarious, poignant, and ringingly true.

I turned 70 two and a half months ago, on March 10, 2011. It’s taken me this long to sit down and write about it. I believe I needed the distance. It represented a profound shift for me, much like my memory of turning 30. When I turned 30 I realized I was a grown-up. I guess that meant, okay you’re responsible (as in weighty responsibility) now. I told everyone I knew to ignore my birthday, and when they did I was devastated. Seventy felt equally onerous as it approached, but this time I admitted that I wanted a big fuss. My family came through for me in spades, for which I am deeply grateful. But still…70…from grown-up to old lady in 24 hours. I thought it would be a big deal. It was. It is.

Here’s what I don’t like about 70. I already mentioned the reading glasses and the memory thing. (I had a funny conversation with a peer a few weeks ago. I said to her, “Sorry but I forget the question you just asked me,” to which she earnestly replied, “Did I ask you a question?” Okay, it’s funny, but it’s also annoying as hell.) I can’t wear high heels anymore. Many women wouldn’t care about this, but I attend a lot of dress-up events, and host many of them at my home, and NO ONE makes dressy flats that are comfortable, at least for my feet. And speaking of feet, my brother and I both developed two hammer toes recently: yuck and uck. They don’t hurt, but they look hideous. I hike and walk long distances (like marathons), and maybe the hardest old lady problem of all is having to—as one woman put it just this morning—wiz every other second, it seems. I know there are pills for “incontinence,” but I’m not that bad yet, and am medicine-avoidant, to boot. So I’ve become shameless about peeing in the woods and around the corner from everywhere.

The biggest issue for me is work. By chance, my husband’s acceptance of a new job in a new state coincided with my turning 70. Most 70-year-old professionals have the opportunity and the time to contemplate retirement, if it’s not already a fait d’complet, but I didn’t have that opportunity. I stayed in Alaska and kept working for six months after my husband moved to New York for his new position, but in no way did either of us want a long distance (extra long in our case) relationship, and we were both thrilled about this new opportunity for him. So I left a position I loved. I wasn’t ready to leave, and I certainly wasn’t ready to stop working full-time, although it was the right move to make without question. I decided at age 70 and already having earned a PhD to go to graduate school for a year—a GREAT stop-gap decision for me—but it was and is very, very, very weird not to have an office, a responsible position, a title, and maybe most of all a salary. It is very, very, very weird when I’m asked by some receptionist or other either the name of my employer or “Are you retired?” These questions make me want to scream. Or sob.

So those are the things I don’t like. There’s plenty I Love. I mean, life goes on, and I’m Me, and I like that. I’m in good health and I love to play tennis and be outdoors. I love my husband and my kids and grandkids. I like where I live now, a lot, and it’s thousands of miles closer to most of our family. Being a grandma is as rewarding as everyone says it is, and more. When my granddaughter called me a few months ago and invited me to sleep in her spare bed, I almost cried with happiness (I couldn’t do that if I was still in Alaska). When our grandson suggested last night that we see Pirates of the Caribbean, of course my husband and I went even though it would have been last on our list. When another granddaughter wound up getting a mysterious illness after returning from Ghana, we could actually go to the hospital and cheer her up. When our two little grandsons gave us a wind chime to hang outside our kitchen door, our taste or not, you bet we hung it up where we see it every morning, afternoon, and evening. It is fun being geographically closer to grandchildren, even without a career-identity (although I do teach as an adjunct and have several possibilities up my sleeve for next year).

As I look back on what I’ve written I see that in my case, turning 70 and leaving my work, and moving across the country, are inextricably entwined. Yet, no matter where I live or whether or not I am employed, I am old. That part I kinda like. I do like. In two and a half months I seem to have turned the corner to accepting and embracing. Despite the glasses and the funky feet, I’m tickled to think of myself as an old lady. I will never try to hide my age. I’m proud as punch that I look good enough and feel great and have a ton of laughter, love, and beauty in my life.

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Reflections

“When I reflect on my life at 70, I begin with a holistic snapshot—that includes family, friends, and recreation. I end by thinking more and more about the role of work in my life, and the role of work in the lives of other women my age. We are mothers and grandmothers and wives and partners but perhaps above all we—I don’t think I’m the only one—identify ourselves by our work. Who will I be when I no longer have a title? Who will I be without a paycheck? On what stage will I express my creativity and desire to contribute?”
Anonymous, Age 70

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AGEISM

Pam, Age 72

I recall the moment when I realized that I had passed some “age” bar in the minds of others. I was in the hospital having carpal tunnel surgery because I could no longer swim or bike comfortably. Before surgery, a young intern came to interview me. One of his questions was how much I walked. I said two miles a day was my minimum. He could not hear miles. He wrote “two blocks.” That was my first bump with age prejudice.

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WHADJASAY?

Jane Giddan, Age 71

Hearing loss creeps up quietly, usually gradually. At first, you don’t notice the absence of leaves rustling, water dripping, wind whistling through trees, tissue paper crinkling or violins singing in high register within the orchestra. There’s more than enough you can still hear and listen to.

After a while, you begin to ask your walking partner to stay on your “good side,” you cup your ear to better catch social conversation at a noisy party, you need someone to repeat question addressed to you from afar. Voices at the other end of the conference table at work start to fade. Now,you to strain to hear your clients, patients, colleagues. You turn the TV volume up to a new level, to the discomfort of those around you.

Meanwhile, as you continue in denial, your partner, coworkers, children and friends are well aware of your diminished acuity. They learn quickly that you can’t hear them in a crowd, or from behind. They grow familiar with your, “Huh?” and “Whadjasay?” and with those often humorous misinterpretations that signal dampened reception of high frequency sounds, “Your mother is coming?” “No, the water is running.”

Yes, hearing loss can actually become annoying to others, long before you’re willing to acknowledge and deal with it. According to the National Center for Health Statistics, more that 9 million Americans over the age of 65 suffer hearing loss, but only one in five of them pursues treatment. So many excuses: “I can hear well enough” ”I already wear glasses- not another device to deal with.” “I don’t know who to trust with this problem.” “Those aids are just too expensive.”

Hearing loss impacts some work settings more than others. Imagine the speech therapist testing for articulation errors in children, “Say that again, a little louder, please,” as she homes in on visual cues from the child’s mouth. The social worker in the noisy NICU, public speaker fielding questions from the audience, lawyer with clients, doctor with stethoscope to a patient’s chest- the list goes on.

What to do? How to cope. What are some ways to compensate for this loss?
Here are some ideas:

·Have hearing tested by a licensed, certified Audiologist (CCC-A from the American Speech-Language and Hearing Association or certified by the American Academy of Audiology).
·Follow-up with periodic re-testing of incipient loss.
·When ready, and on the advice of the audiologist, purchase the best hearing aids available for your needs—choose among the newest small, digital, multi-channel, background sound- dampening wonders.
·Let others know about your loss- but caution them not to talk with extra volume when hearing aids are on-That can be painful.
·Move to a quiet environment for important conversations- an empty office; just beyond the chattering of a party crowd.
·Face the speaker. Capitalize on facial cues and lip reading.
·In restaurants, seek a seat in a booth with your back to the wall.
·Get used to no longer overhearing interesting conversations at the next table.
·In theatres, take advantage of free FM listening devices- especially if you don’t wear aids yet, but need some help.
·Remember to routinely touch each ear before stepping into the shower—just in case you’ve forgotten to remove your aids—they respond poorly to water.
·Put hand lotion on after you’ve placed your aids in your ears. That way, the cream won’t clog the microphone opening.

At home, set ground rules:
·No talking room-to-room
·Best to communicate face-to-face and within close range.
·Say the person’s name and get their full attention before speaking.
·Suppress background noise (TV, music, etc.) when conversing.

Here’s what will still be true:

·The loudest auditory signal in the environment still will win. It’s hard to suppress all competing sounds.

·Your own vocal volume and projection will be affected by the feedback of your own voice— so you might speak too softly. Louder may sound too loud to you.

·In less than ideal listening conditions, there will still be messages missed, or misunderstood. Repeat back what you have heard for confirmation. Laugh at the unintended errors.

Know that once you finally do acquire needed hearing aids, you will rediscover many of the auditory signals you’ve been missing, and conversations with others will be vastly improved.

Through it all, remember to enjoy the precious sounds and voices around you, and treasure the hearing you still have.

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REDEFINING OURSELVES

Thoughts from a 70Candles gathering:

What shall we do when we no longer pursue our careers?
We might retool, retrain, pursue new ventures, or volunteer where there’s a need.

Re-tiring can be like putting new tires on a car – a fresh start!

We take ourselves with us into each new adventure, and wherever we may move. An avocation might move to the forefront and in retirement, claim our full attention. This new focus can help us redefine who we are and what we are about. “I am a photographer,” said aloud, can begin a whole new chapter in a life.

Optimism matters. Know that there are possibilities ahead.
There is something good in every day, Find it, notice it, wonder at it, give it, be it.

Each day contains the possibility of something new and exciting that’s never happened before.

With age has come experience and wisdom, to pass along to younger people. By being a good listener, you can be a catalyst, to help them sort things out. They know the answers, they just need help finding them. We have inspirational status.

Connect, connect, connect with family, friends, and especially women friends. Relate to people of all ages. Have several different communities.

Make younger friends. Interact with different kinds of people. Don’t marginalize anyone.

Accept your friends with all their frailties as they age. Don’t focus on what was or what might be.

Bring energy to whatever you do- it keeps you going.

“I don’t want to be young; I just want to be thought of as young.”

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ABOUT THAT AGE

As the first generation of women in professions, we are very different from our mothers. They could be teachers, nurses or secretaries; few ventured beyond limited offerings, and when they did work, the generation before us stayed in a single job until they retired.

A wider range of career options opened up for us, as law schools, medical schools, business schools all started admitting more women. We’ve felt the freedom to evolve and change course as opportunities broadened through the years. We’ve had the courage to create new
options. Now, as we consider winding down, or retiring from our careers, we believe there is still an array of options ahead.

It’s interesting to consider how our identity been affected by our life’s work. Is our job who we are? Or is it a mutable facet of our being? As one woman was about to retire, after a long career as Dean of Students, a colleague said, “You won’t know who you are when you wake up tomorrow.” He was wrong!

The retired lawyer still sees nuanced issues in the world through her analytic lens. The speech-language pathologist stays attuned to voices and speech patterns wherever she goes. The essence of each of us is embedded in a complex fabric. Our work life and all it provides is but a fragment of “I.”

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Still working

Gloria, Age 69

Recently I did a sort of life review, in 10 year age spans, and I realized that I accomplished more in the years from 50 – 60 than any other span. I haven’t yet completed the 60 – 70 span, but I am sure it will likewise be very full.
My life also had more changes as I aged.
Now I work only 3 days per week, but am loathe to give up my profession, as a clinical psychologist, completely. I find that age and experience have deepened and enriched my ability to empathise, assist and engage with my patients. By using my own life experience I am encouraging other women to expect to be similarly productive long past their 40’s. And I hope I am a role model to my young clients as they tackle life’s challenges.
Being a grandmother certainly is very joy-filled, but I have not become the fulltime nanny my daughter and son-in-law invite me to become. I relish the time I have to read for hours, or to walk among my trees and pick up branches to burn. Even with the loss of loved ones and friends, I am enjoying these days and savoring each pleasure. Although I have some medical conditions, I am thankful for my general good health- emotional, physical and spiritual. Seventy does not seem the threat it would have been at age 40. Sometimes I even contemplate turning eighty, as with every decade I wonder, ‘Is this the time to stop coloring my hair?’

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