Middle old age

Everyone ages differently, so I’m only speaking for myself here. I’m 76 now, and all those creeping age-related changes seem to have joined forces and given me a different self and a different life. I think and act very differently than I did even just a few years ago. It feels as if I’ve entered a new stage in aging: middle old age.

My late sixties were really the glory years. Retired on a pension, in pretty good health, I finally felt free to do just as I pleased and enjoy myself. It was a marvellous time of life. What I didn’t realize is that it’s a stage, young old age, and that it lasts for only a few short years.

But then, bit by bit, or sometimes suddenly, health issues begin to crowd in. I keep trying to compensate with more fitness, a healthier diet, good preventive care, and those things all help. But I can’t get over how much work it is, how much energy it takes to look after myself now. Chronic pain and chronic fatigue rule my life. They tell me how long I can sit, stand and walk, and are unforgiving if I don’t obey, so now I’m mostly housebound. It’s frustrating having to pay so much attention to my body; I’d certainly rather think about other things, and try my best to do so. But middle old age imposes limitations that cannot be denied.

My friends are going through middle old age too, and it’s a different path for each of them. Of course we all want to support one another, but figuring out how best to do it is a minefield. Health issues loom large in all our lives now, so we need to talk about them, but we don’t want to give in to endless whining. None of us are doctors, so although we would like the comfort of knowing that others share our experience, it’s not especially helpful to assume that your aches and pains are just like mine, so here are the exercises and herbal supplements that worked for me, why don’t you try them? Neither is it helpful to view this situation as a contest, the winner being the poor sod with the worst health. Some people reverse this ploy: one so-called friend keeps reminding me triumphantly that I’m worse off than she is.

I think one of the hardest challenges is managing a friendship with someone who is suffering from worsening memory loss. There’s still a warm connection, and we keep our conversation light, but so many of our shared memories and experiences have simply been wiped out.

I struggled for a while to come up with something upbeat to end this post. But then I decided that in this new stage of life, aging has become a formidable force and deserves more than cheery platitudes. So I’ll just say that middle old age is what it is. It’s my new life now, and I have to play the cards I’ve been dealt.