Thoughts and Suggestions from an Aging Psychologist.

The Still Generation: Embracing Continuity Amid Change

The inspiration for this post came from a note I wrote to myself on a Post-It, that whatever I experience, I experience as myself. As me. “The same me, only now” is also an apt response to questions I hear frequently these days: “Are you still doing … ?” or “Are you still … whatever?” I am now a bona fide member of the Still Generation, as you also might be.

The Vicissitudes of Aging

The vicissitudes of aging, the challenges of aging, age-related changes — all speak of the same thing, and include changes in the roles and relationships that define us:

• Upon retirement, we transition out of our professional roles.
• Ceasing to participate in a sport, like skiing, alters our identity as an enthusiast of that activity.
• The phase of active parenting concludes as we experience the empty nest.

Relationships change too. Widowhood marks the end of a major relationship, as does divorce.

There are also losses, changes within our social cohort, the deep connections that have sustained and supported us. These losses become increasingly more plentiful as we make our way through older personhood.

Precious friends move away, or are lost to disease, chronic illness and death. Right now, I am in close touch with three dear friends and colleagues in the final stage of their life. One of my longest friends, of more than fifty years, died last week.

Facing Physical and Functional Changes

“The same me, only now” is also challenged by our own physical and functional changes.

Am I enough of “the same me” as when:

• I once was a tap dancer, but am no longer?
• I once was actively involved in yoga classes, and now participate online at home, adjusting the poses to what I can reasonably do that day?
• I once enjoyed cross country skiing, but no longer do? This is especially unfortunate because it was one of the few things I liked about the New England winters.

Maintaining a sense of continuity and being recognizable to ourselves and others, despite these changes, is a significant challenge.

Maintaining Our Identity

How do we do this? How can we remain essentially the same self in the face of myriad age-related losses and changes? The good news is that, as older people, we come equipped with a long history of experience, lessons learned, achieved wisdom, and a toolbox of coping strategies.

With these hard-won tools, we’re usually able to muddle through, to meet the challenge, to endure, and continue on as ourselves.

Embracing Change with Wisdom

This magical process often begins at the moment when we acknowledge — admittedly, sometimes while kicking and shouting — that change must be made. We are wise souls who ultimately “get it”, and creative souls who can recognize a time, a moment, of decision. For example:

• the decision to move from the family home into smaller, safer quarters;
• the decision to use a cane, knowing that it is is better than feeling excessively uncertain with every step, or giving up pleasurable walks around the neighborhood altogether.

As older people, acceptance, adaptation, and accommodation becomes our new mantra.

We know not to tilt at windmills, that doing so would only expend precious energy unnecessarily, and put us at risk of being whipped by the blades.

We learn to differentiate between what is a given (cannot be changed) and what is a negotiable (able to be changed). We become skilled at accommodating a new reality, accepting and ultimately coming to love the self we are now.

A Reflection on Identity and Memory

I recall my past work in skilled nursing facilities, in what would now be called memory units. The residents often strolled the corridors, but had trouble remembering which room was theirs. They would often go onto another’s room and make themselves at home.

To address this, the staff would ask a family member for a photo of the resident to affix to their door. The photo provided was most often one of the resident at middle age, frequently engaged in a lively activity.

The residents easily recognized their photos, and this simple and nostalgic expedient successfully reduced entries into the wrong rooms. An additional benefit: the photo reminded staff and visitors of a time when the resident was in their prime.

The Resonance of “Crabbit Old Woman”

I’d like to share a wonderful poem with you, by Phyllis McCormick She wrote Crabbit Old Woman in 1966 in Scotland, in the voice of an old woman writing to a nurse at the care facility where she presently was living.

What do you see nurse? What do you see? What are you thinking when you look at me? A crabbit old woman, not very wise Uncertain of habit, with far away eyes, Who dribbles her food and makes no reply? When you say in a loud voice, I do wish you’d try?

Who seems not to notice the things that you do? And forever is losing a stocking or shoe? Who, unresisting or not, lets you do as you will With bathing and feeding the long days fill? Is that what you’re thinking, is that what you see? Then open your eyes nurse, you’re looking at me.

I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still! As I rise at your bidding, as I eat at your will.

I’m a small child of 10 with a father and mother, Brothers and sisters, who loved one another.

A young girl of 16 with wings at her feet, Dreaming that soon a new lover she’ll meet.

A bride soon at 20 — my heart gives a leap, Recalling the vows that I promised to keep.

At 25 now I have young of my own, Who need me to build a secure happy home.

A woman of 30, my young now grow fast, Bound to each other ties that should last.

At 40, my young sons have grown and are gone, But my man is beside me to see I don’t mourn.

At 50 once more babies play round my knee, Again we know children, my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead. I look at the future, I such shudder with dread. For my young all are rearing young ones of their own. And I think of the years and the love that I’ve known.

I’m an old woman now and nature is cruel — ‘Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool. The body is crumbled, grace and vigor depart. There is now a stone where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells, And now and again my battered heart swells I remember the joy, I remember the pain And I’m loving and living life over again.

I think of the years all too few — gone too fast. And accept the stark fact that nothing can last. So, open your eyes, nurse, open and see Not a crabbit old woman. Look closer —

See Me.

Engaging with Poetry: An Activity

To bring a bit of joy and reflection into your day, I suggest a simple poetry activity.

A Poem-a-Day keeps the blahs away

1. Choose a theme, topic, feeling, or idea and summarize it in a few words.
2. Search online for poems related to your chosen theme.
3. Select and read aloud one or two poems, connecting deeply with their messages.

Now you have already done something meaningful today!

I hope you enjoyed the activity.

OUGHT: To Define, Challenge and Reframe

Now for the third of the four Major Demands.

In facing life’s challenges, consider these steps:

• Define: Understand the duties or criticisms you’re facing.
• Challenge: Question the nature and validity of these duties.
• Reframe: View these duties as choices, focusing on their benefits and the options available to you.

For example, reframe a duty like this: It would be good for me to attend to this, because…

• Describe the benefit.
• Is it time sensitive?
• Anything making me stuck?
• What would get me unstuck?

Suggestions imply choice. You can make a choice.

Photo by the author.