Thursday, July 28, 2011

A 93-year-old blogger speaks out at the Huffington Post


Yesterday afternoon, I visited Cups & Scoops, the coffee shop adjacent to the branch library in Woodbury. My memoir writers group meets monthly in a conference room there and I often stop by to check out a book and enjoy a cup of coffee. 

Over time, I’ve become acquainted with the two women behind the counter. The younger one, the mother of several children, is also a writer. In her spare time, she’s working on a historical novel, and she’s a member of a writers group that recently spun off from a class in writing at the Loft.

I’ve been using a cane lately and after paying my bill, I  was trying to figure out how to manage everything with only my left hand free when my writer friend came around to the other side of the counter and carried my coffee and chocolate chip muffin to my favorite table.

Despite severe arthritis in both knees, I’d long resisted using a cane as it seemed, well, so suggestive of old age. But almost immediately I noticed a considerable gain in mobility, and I’ve been gratified by the kindness and thoughtfulness of people I encounter when I’m out in public. After enjoying my coffee and reading for awhile yesterday, I exited the library through the front entrance; a gentleman I’d never met before hastened to hold the heavy doors open for me.

With many pleasant experiences like the above in mind, I read with intense interest this morning “Why our society is ageist,” by 93-year-old Rhoda P. Curtis. (Rhoda is the author of "Rhoda: Her First Ninety Years" and "After Ninety: What". )

Regardless of your age, you owe it to yourself to read Rhoda’s insightful and uplifting article published at the Huffington Post:

My young friend, Lila, who just celebrated her 57th birthday, told me that her mother, Elizabeth, was reluctant to see her friends anymore because, as Lila said, "She wanted them to remember her as she used to be."

How sad. Elizabeth is only 83, and is quite healthy by my standards. I will be 94 in February, 2012; I can't walk more than one block without running out of air, and I take lots of pain killers to ease arthritical pain. When I look in the mirror in the morning, I see an old face, but one with a vibrant look of curiosity in the eyes. With the help of a caregiver, I take a hot shower every morning and gratefully accept my caregiver's help in putting on my clothes, especially my stretch stockings. I do some exercises recommended by my physical therapist.

Whenever the pain lets up, we go to the local Y and I walk in the water, use an underwater bicycle and soak in the spa. That's the physical routine. Since I'm a writer, and a retired teacher, I've signed up for two play writing groups and I go to plays and concerts. I discuss politics vigorously with other activist friends. Once in a while I cook for friends, for my son and his wife. My grandchildren are off doing their thing; I like my life!


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