Acting My Age

By Pat Gallagher

The memory of doing cartwheels with abandon when I was ten years old gives me the shivers now. Watching young children running pell-mell down a slope, tumbling and bouncing back up is distressing. Did I ever do that? I must have. I do remember the Band-Aids and mercurochrome on skinned knees. For many years I didn’t hesitate to lift small children, set ‘em on my hip, sling a bag over my shoulder, and maneuver a stroller down a set or stairs. Now it’s an achievement to simply descend the stairs. Now, lifting my 10-inch cast iron skillet from the drawer beneath the oven requires conscious attention to placing my feet carefully, bending at the hip crease to protect my back, engaging core muscles to protect the rest of my joints, and remembering to breathe. Isn’t it amazing that the breath is such an important element in all this. And “core”? Who knew? Why did no one tell me this seventy-five years ago?! No need then, I guess.

All this conscious attention takes time, which must translate to outsiders as “slow”. All this gathering of what I need before I leave the house: the two sets of keys, the cell phone, the Tylenol in case I get a migraine aura when I’m out and about, the wallet, purse, and all this and remembering to lock the doors, adjust the shades, and turning on NPR loudly (Do I think NPR will deter anyone from entering the house?) I read once that classical music deters some people from hanging out in places where they might be up to no good: street corners, underpasses, etc. But I digress…. All this intentional, purposeful, no-longer-automatic preparation is how it is now.

Every now and then I remember how easily I moved about, how unconscious I was, how little attention I paid to the tribulations of the elderly. It wasn’t that I was uncaring it was more from a belief that those things they complained about wouldn’t happen to me. I never imagined myself as one of them. 

The challenge now is to not give in to the limitations or use them as an excuse to withdraw. Although nothing works as well as it used to (As someone said, “Everything hurts.”) I’m looking at this stage of life as an opportunity to let go of what doesn’t nourish me in some way, to focus on lessons learned, on blessings given over these 84 years and to make whatever accommodations are necessary to use my talents to help where I can, and rest when I need to. The challenge is to be my best 84-year-old self.