The Sassy Side Of Sixty: Is Old Age A Blessing Or A Curse

“No one tells the oceans or the trees or the mountains that they’re too old. They talk of how powerful, how grounded, how awesome they are...imagine if we thought the same way about ourselves as we got older. Maybe then we’d realize how spectacular we are!”

– Becky Hemsley

• A fear I carry quietly but deeply is, after a lifetime of being strong and capable, of becoming helpless; not being able to care for myself or make my own decisions; losing my independence.

• I dread becoming alone; not physically, but emotionally—the quiet that follows when life slows down and the world moves on; the absence of those who shared my youth and my memories. Becoming sick plays into both the fear of being alone and being in physical pain, added to the emotional weight of watching life shift in ways I can’t control. But acknowledging them with compassion and grace might help prepare me.

• The body is slower, but I’m grateful for my morning coffee and accept life as it unfolds, as I know someone has my back. I’ll speak less, but listen and learn more while searching for means to earn to stay afloat.

• Gratitude offsets the complaints of the advancing age, although there’s the lurking uncertainty and fear that the body and the mind might age at different paces; also, the afterlife unpreparedness. I didn’t expect such severe pain that I’m unable to put my foot down or turn on my side without help, which I feel terrible needing. I thank the Almighty that I am off the steroid shots, which made me bloated and unable to digest food. Also, for a child who looks after all my needs and safeguards me by installing a shower-seat and toilet railings, and also provided me with a walker and a wheelchair.

• I’m so loving and living my age, even with more aches and pains and meds. Without social media, our health awareness was late in coming, and since how I am is from my own actions, I’ll deal with it. I do pray not to burden the family with a long-lasting illness.

• When asked why I don’t colour the grey in my hair, without becoming cynical, I use a witty and funny approach. I say that it took me 54 years of living, breathing, working, and experiencing life to get that colour, and you want me to run black over it???

• I accept the creeping age, but I feel dejected and suffer from self-pity when I’m judged as stubborn and non-conforming because of my ideology and experiences.

• The declining health and mental capabilities, and the superficial overnight changes in the body, in weight, skin, and hair.

• Difficult to accept is the patronising attitude, as I still possess a sharp brain, rich emotions, and wisdom, like rare, aged wine. If and when I’m talked down to, I tell them off in a nice, humorous way. But what pains me most is seeing aged people relegated to child rearing, house-keeping, and treated like they’re senile; what I thought happened only in TV soaps.

• I never resisted aging; I tuned out a lot of trivial stuff and I became more focused and centred; wisdom awakening.

• Greying hair and wrinkles aren’t as big a problem as menopause. I’m learning to adapt to the hot flushes, mood swings, dry and itchy skin, and praying to die while still independent.

• In youth, the future feels infinite, but as you age, there’s a loss of possibilities; doors start closing—whether career opportunities, physical abilities, or even relationships. Society prioritises youth, so aging negatively impacts relevance, roles, and personal identity. Another big loss is purpose in life, causing an acceleration towards disease and death.

• Since aging is inevitable, it’s best to shift our perspective from mourning for what’s lost to embracing what remains—wisdom, experience, and the ability to appreciate life in ways younger people can’t. Another very important aspect is surrounding oneself with the right people, not necessarily like-minded, but with those with whom you can confer your personal demons.