Growing Old, Staying Young, and a Box of Rain

 

   Aside from plastic surgery and Botox, how can we grow old gracefully if we’re lucky enough to stay healthy and remain on the planet?  For me and many other baby boomers in our 50s and 60s, this is a burning question.  First we raised our children and watched them depart the nest one by one (although these days some boomerang back home).  Then somewhere along the way, we noticed how old our own parents had become, or we lost a parent to the inevitable tides of time.  In between care-taking our surviving elderly parents and launching our young adults, it eventually becomes impossible NOT to see our own wrinkles and loose skin, to feel the wear and tear on our muscles and joints of half a century of life.  If your mom or dad had arthritis, a bad back, or hip replacement, you don’t need to wonder why you’re starting to feel pain in those same body parts.

                

     The secret to staying young—it seems to me—is to be a rock star (or to act like one).  Sometimes I think that bands like today’s  Rolling Stones are an optical illusion. I first saw Mick Jagger when I was 18 years old; I saw him perform again in my early 50s, awed by how amazing and energetic he was on stage.  It’s hard to believe that Jagger is 71 (!!) and still doing concerts in full strut and cardio mode.  Of course when you look at Keith Richards (also 71), I marvel that he’s still alive— let alone strumming up on stage–because he looks like a centenarian.  And what about Paul McCartney, 69, who’s on his third, very youthful wife? He’s still crooning away, playing piano and performing at concerts. Ditto for Rod Stewart 70, Elton John, 68, and Billy Joel, 66. Yes, all of these musicians LOOK older (and maybe some  have lost a beat), but they are still bright stars in the baby boomer firmament.  Maybe the trick really is to “keep on trucking” a swell as you can for as long as you can,(while avoiding mirrors).
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     But sometimes we have to stop moving—at least for a few days—long enough to repair or replace a worn out part.  For example, my husband, Henry had arthroscopic hip surgery on Thursday and was back in his law office, meeting with clients on Monday, crutches and all.  He wouldn’t take a single pain-killer because he didn’t want to fog his brain. His only concession to surgery was insisting that the client travel to his office (instead of visa versa). Doctor’s orders were for my husband to “keep his leg elevated and rest.”   Always restless and on the move,  Henry often reminds me of  a race car at the Indy 500, stopping only long enough to replace his  blown tire, before revving up to 100 miles per hour again.   Henry’s supposed to stay on crutches for a month, but I’ve already caught him hopping a short distance or impatiently grabbing just one crutch, despite the doctor’s orders.  

               

                 

     “The feeling we have here today—take it home with you and do some good with it,” Drummer Michael Hart, 71, advised the crowd. 

               

     That’s great advice for empty nesters, who may be starting to feel old, or miss the good old days (?) I’d like to add a suggestion of my own: turn a page in the book of YOUR life, and write the next chapter. If that means replacing a hip or a knee,  getting a few Botox injections, or just slowing down  long enough to notice the shape of clouds and the color of  our sky, take a break.  But be sure to keep moving and carry the past forward—or to quote the Grateful Dead, keep seeking “all that’s still unsung.”