We were both waiting for the same train. I had sat down next to her in the waiting area, and she had moved her things slightly to make room, which meant we began to talk. For some reason, the conversation turned quickly to age.
I told her I was 81 and I liked being old. She said she was 61 and she didn’t. I asked her why not? “Well, because I feel all my future is behind me,” she answered.
Oh dear, I wondered. Do a lot of people feel this way?
There is something about age 60, which sounds like a new level, like the levels in one of your grandchildren’s computer games. Except whereas they are always seeking to get onto a new level, this isn’t something that many of us are trying to get to.
It sounds like the beginning of ‘old’, which means the beginning of ‘the end’. Even if people at age 60 are not yet worrying about death these days (not so long ago, such thoughts might have been very reasonable), it is a time of thinking about retirement.
And retirement means stopping. Life as you have known it comes to an end. I guess it is an easy step to your “future is behind you.” (This brief companion also told me that she had lost one husband through divorce and another through death, so perhaps that sounded like the end of the road in the romance department.)
We turned to the reasons why I liked being old. “You are SO much more confident,” I argued. Yes, she said, and noted that she hadn’t really thought about that. “You feel so much more comfortable in your own body.” She agreed.
“And you do whatever you want to do and say whatever you want to say,” I added. She didn’t demur. I don’t know whether I won her over, but I did give her a flyer for my recent book on the subject of growing older.
She said she would look into it. Our train was called, our seats were in different compartments, and I didn’t see her again.
But good heavens, life doesn’t stop at 60. It doesn’t even stop at 80. The past 20 years have brought two new books from under my pen. (In case you are curious, the other is on hospice care.)
Twenty years ago, I hadn’t written a word for Sixty and Me, for whom I have been writing for the last eight or so years.
And I hadn’t begun my new enterprise, started only five months ago when I was 80, of a free Substack Newsletter, each with a blog on some completely different topic of general interest. It has grown from 25 family and friends to nearly 170 subscribers, which is very rewarding.
Of considerable importance, on the family side, I didn’t have either of my two wonderful grandsons, who have added so much to my life.
I might note that I know several women who have found new relationships just before turning 70, so even that side of things is not finished at 60. As far as I am concerned, the last 20 years have left me even happier with my long-standing husband.
Nor are the joys of life counted solely by what one has produced or the people in your life. There is a wealth of everyday experience to be enjoyed.
Everybody is different in what brings them joy, but I have gained hugely from the books I have read, the music I have sung, the places I have been. Not to mention those hours just chatting to a friend. Or lying on my bed thinking my thoughts.
I wouldn’t have missed them for anything.
My future is still in the future.
Where’s yours?
What has brought you joy in your 60s and beyond? What would you have said to the woman who thought her future was behind her?
Tags Getting Older Inspiration
I turned 60 last August and I feel like I’ve had an awakening. As the eldest of seven children, i started caring for my siblings at age five. I’ve taken care of others for 55 years. Now, it’s my time.
My husband and children have had to get used to the new me. I put self-care and my reinvention ahead of a lot of other activities these days.
I still work and can’t see retirement in my future. I am blessed to be able to run, dance, love, travel, and be joyful. Every day is a diamond.
I Mist say I too feel the future is behind me. Although I have a 3 year old grandson that I visits every few months and love spending time with him, my daighter (only child) chose to move 20 hours drive away from me so I have no family around me and I think for me, that makes the everyday and the future rather empty
Although I do have good friends and I treasure doing things with them, the absence of family makes the future bleak
At 62, my spouse of 43 years filed for a divorce and Catholic annulment after stating we were never married because he never loved me! Difficult times for a few years, including the passing of both parents. Fortunately, I had a job I loved that involved a lot of travel and friends who provided support and opportunities to not be alone. CoVid brought an end to my job, friends remained via FaceTime and Zoom, and Medicare allowed me to afford a therapist, which I recommend to anyone who is unhappy for any reason.
Ten years later, I’m 72 and retired. I sold the house I lived in for 30 years, visited one of my children for a few months in Hawaii. Accepted an offer to rent a small house near her and have spent ten months learning about the history and culture of Hawaii. Being in a different environment with no close friends nor acquaintances, other than my daughter, who know neither my history nor former “non” spouse, has been an unexpected godsend. I had a choice to only tag along with her family or try to make new friends. I now have a 92 year old walking buddy and 90 year old friend I talked with nearly daily. I have made casual friends in the neighborhood. I unexpectedly met a wonderful 61 year old man local who has shared his love of music, and planned hikes and activities to share his knowledge of the islands.
I believe the opportunity to move out of my past and accept the challenge of letting go has offered me multiple opportunities to see the potential of a different future, albeit less than 60 years in length. Not everything in my first 62 years was negative. Not everything in my future will be positive. I don’t discount the help of a competent therapist in helping me understand the importance of letting my past not be my future.
I have held few full time jobs in my life. (definitely pros and cons to that!) My life was filled with rearing my 4 children and traveling the world with my husband and his college students. Turning 60 didn’t seem a big deal.
Soon afterwards I hit a personal identity crisis of sorts. Realizing the extent of focus and support I’d spent on others made me sad that I hadn’t given myself the same.
After much wrestling with my myself and in the process, my husband, I discovered and rediscovered so many wonderful things! I worked with an architect and designed and built my dream house and literally planted a food forest complete with a fish pond in my backyard. I got chickens for the first time and love the fresh eggs. I was hired as a resource development director for a nonprofit. When I was young, I tap danced. After much searching, I joined an adult tap class. My furniture refurbishing hobby was rekindled and has grown in to a small business. I built a corner library and keep it stocked with children’s books. I joined several women’s groups that are working to better conditions for women in our state and from this, was invited to join a nonprofit board. And, at 67, trained and successfully climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro. And the best thing I’ve done is learned to play pickleball, which brings exercise and sociality!
Presently, we’re living in Austria for 4 months for my husband’s work. It’s beautiful but after doing the tourist things, I’m back to feeling myself lost in supporting someone else. My rediscovered self has been put on a shelf and I’m struggling to find meaning in a country where I don’t speak the language and can’t get involved in anything. My personal “go to” is trying my hand at sketching and water color painting. I’m counting the days until I get back to the states and my wonderful “after 60” life.
I’m one of the 61 yo thinking the best is behind me. Losing a son to cancer in his 20s, and the deep grief has definitely changed my worldview. I do function now, try to do something most days to help someone else so I have a reason to keep going. But our family is scarred and somewhat broken from this loss. My goal at this point is to live peacefully and quietly.
Sorry for your loss, Linda. I get it. My SO currently battling cancer. It’s tough and isn’t what we expected. No one ever really does. Peace to you