Grey Expectations
Is your glass half full?
Celia Dodd celebrates the different stages of being an oldie
People don’t talk enough about what’s good about getting older, apart from the obvious things like acquiring wisdom and a free bus pass. And yet it’s got to be good; otherwise why are sixty- and seventy- somethings the happiest people on the planet? One survey found a huge gap between younger people’s Eeyoreish expectations of old age–memory loss, frailty, no sex– and the generally happier reality. The trick is to see the glass half full; it could add years to your life.
The young oldie (50-64) For a while, 60 really does feel like the new 40. And then someone gives up his seat on the train and the chasm between the way the world sees you and your mirror face suddenly hits.
But who cares? You’re the one reading your book in smug comfort and travelling to work unfrazzled.
At this stage, the irritations of ageing become harder to ignore but are easy to manage, whether it’s not being able to hear in restaurants or rogue hairs sprouting everywhere.
But you do have to face up to the fact that your body requires the maintenance levels of a vintage car. It’s a good excuse for a cheeky ‘power’ nap when you feel like it and to indulge in physical activities you genuinely enjoy, whether that’s wild swimming or trekking the Camino de Santiago. At 50, you’ve got a 50% chance of living another 40 years – and, since regular exercise helps keep body and brain in shape, you may as well have a good time.
Longer life expectancy means the years ahead present a brand new stage, not a winding-down.
Pondering how much life has changed over the last forty years puts the next forty in perspective, and crystallises the wisdom of making a plan full of new purpose.
The middle oldie (66-85) If you want to stop work you can; since 2011 there is no legal retirement age (unless you’re an air traffic controller or some other exempt profession).
Retirement gets a bad press. It’s true that it makes some people feel lost, bored and even depressed. But what’s not to like about doing what you want with no alarm, boss or commute? These days, retirement is a flexible affair, with more people choosing to mix paid and unpaid work with having a good time. And you can usually claim your pension if you continue working.
The key is to take control of your time and fill it with things you’ve longed to do for years. This way, you won’t end up at the mercy of relatives looking for an unpaid nanny or someone to take their car in for a service. And you’ll save yourself from eyes glazing over when you say ‘I used to be a ….’
When it comes to health, a big worry is not being able to remember whether you’ve brushed your teeth. But the latest research shows it’s possible to improve brain function, including memory, with physical exercise. And it’s never too late to start.
A horrible aspect of getting older is that barely a day passes without another friend getting some dire diagnosis. Feeling ‘there but for the grace of God’ seems slightly shameful, but it focuses the mind in the most life-enhancing way: there’s no point waiting for the right time to gallop bareback across a beach or declare your undying passion, because it may never come.
Urgency spurs people to get on with living life to the full in a way they may never have done before.
The old oldie (85+) This is when life can get seriously anarchic: you can eat cake for breakfast and take a bath at 3 in the afternoon with no guilt, although some oldies still draw the line at drinking gin before 6pm.
If you’re forced to give up driving, you can drink as much as you like when you go out. It’s nice to be offered a lift for a change.
Taxis are cheaper than running a car. On public transport, you’re bound to get a seat, however crowded it is; and someone always offers to carry your suitcase. You can talk to anyone about anything.
At this great age, no one is expected to be au fait with technology. Athough the horrors of computers and smart phones loom large, you’re less likely to be greeted with withering looks when you ask for help. A more mundane frustration is not being able to change a lightbulb or being told off by relatives if found halfway up a ladder in the attempt.
It comes down to accepting help gracefully and learning to relish the great pleasures of slowing down: stopping to chat, staring at the sky and appreciating each new outing and encounter. It’s almost inevitable that physical limitations will mean you can go out less.
Diana Athill, who always looked on the bright side of old age, right up to her death at 101, insisted that the increasing rarity of new acquaintances and outings to galleries made them more enjoyable than ever.