On Being Ninety

My first reaction, when I looked at the clock just after midnight on January 11, 2005, and realized that I was 90 years old, was surprise. I never expected to reach this age, or write 2005 on a check, or put 90 on a form in the doctor's office, or even to have had a golden wedding anniversary. I'm still not completely used to the idea, and surprise is the emotion I feel when I look at my birthday cards and see a large "90" on some of them.

However, it is beginning to settle in a little, and I have begun to wonder whether my long life has really been of any consequence. I am a counter; that is, I tend to count the organ pipes and stained glass windows and candles at churches, the days left in a month, or the number of visits to particular doctors. I find a kindred spirit in Elizabeth Barrett Browning who wrote, "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways." In my middle years I started counting gray hairs, but I was soon defeated by their quantity and had to give up.

Just since my birthday, I have felt a need to make lists, (and count them) of the good and bad things I have done in my long life. I began with all the mean things I could think of, but I gave up on this also when I got to 100. Surely I could list some good things I've done, but I could think of only three. That is not very many to count, so I was embarrassed about that. For awhile I was subdued, but just at that time I saw a cartoon that was right on the mark. It showed Beetle Bailey lying in bed. He told Sarge that he was thinking of all the bad things he had ever done. Sarge said, "Good!" But Beetle continued (gleefully it seems) by saying he was also thinking of all the bad things he's going to do in the future. Ah, what a philosophy! That's for me!

While in a mood to reminisce, I thought of the various stages in my life and I have observed the changes in the topics of conversation when people, especially women, get together. I remember my high school days when grades and boys, not necessarily in that order, were of prime importance. College days were much the same, but with job seeking added. Then there were engagements and weddings of friends, as well as my own, and quite soon the topic was babies. I remember an older friend saying to me that there is a period in your life when all you want to think about is babies. At that time I thought that would never change, but of course along came school days for the children with music lessons and PTA. Sometimes we mothers were even critical of the teachers who didn't find our children as exceptional as we knew they were. After awhile, there were showers and weddings to talk about, and sorrow and possibly relief in having an empty nest. In time, we talked of the joys of grandmothering. (There might have been a little wistful feeling about being dated by becoming a grandmother. Everyone knows the old joke about the man who said he didn't mind being a grandfather, but he hated sleeping with a grandmother.) Bragging about the grandchildren came naturally. (My granddaughter remarked that I could tell people that none of the grandchildren had ever been in jail.)

Much too soon, the topic of conversation at get-togethers turned to doctors and ailments. It almost seems as if we compete in trying to tell the biggest stories about our surgeries, MRIs, scopes, the many itises and osises which afflict us, the price of medications, and the pills that almost killed us. Everyone has a hospital story. Though a friend recently told me that no one really wants to hear about ailments, and I remember the verse, "Don't talk about your indigestion. 'How are you?' is a greeting, not a question." I still tell captive audiences about my spinal stenosis and the six other problems I have. (Something else I can count.)

So what good is there in being 90? I recently heard the question, "Who would want to be 90?" and the answer, "The people who are 89." There really is some good in it. While I am alive, my son and son-in-law don't have to be the oldest at family gatherings, and my children can brag to me about their children and grandchildren. (It is my joy now to have a great-granddaughter.) I have always felt that one of the functions of grandparents is to receive with pleasure the reports of the young people's honors and abilities. Though no one else may care to hear about the exceptional grandchildren, to grandparents it's the nectar in life. A grandmother can be the hub in the wheel of the family, doing so without undue influence on the movement of the spokes.

One of the blessings of being 90 is the help and attention often received. I once read the autobiography of a blind man who called himself "the Moses of the metropolis," for all he had to do was lift his white cane and city traffic would halt and a path would open like the Red Sea and leave room for him to cross. I also feel like Moses when traffic stops for me when I need to cross 17th Street where there are no traffic lights. Not everyone stops, but if one driver does, others get the message. Also, I frequently receive help from younger people (and courteous older men who are of the "old school") who open heavy doors and return grocery carts. And, of course, there are the faithful people who do various jobs at my house.

Anyway, I'm still here and I think of the phrase, "If God brings you to it, He will see you through it." I believe in the seeing through it part but have never felt that God brings people into suffering. I think that would be a capricious act of God.

Looking ahead is part of growing old. A friend who suffers from several health problems opined that Robert Browning must have been hallucinating when he wrote, "Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be." But I like to think of Edwin Markham's poem in which he says, "Now I turn to the future for wine and bread. I have bidden the past adieu. I laugh and lift hand to the years ahead. Come on, I am ready for you." I like that attitude, and Beetle's as well.

Discuss This Article

Have something you'd like to say? Tell us what you think! Read and post comments for this article.

Find a Job

Choose your career:

MedHunters is the world's biggest healthcare job board. Our job directory has 16,633 jobs with 2,439 hospitals and other direct employers.

We want you to find your next job on MedHunters. Need Help? Call us at 1-888-884-8242, email us at info@medhunters.com or sign up now.