By Sharon Mangas
My late mother had more old sayings than you could shake a stick at. She even decorated with them. When I was growing up, we had a plaque hanging in our kitchen with an old-fashioned couple painted on it. They were holding hands under script that read, “Grow Old Along with Me, the Best is Yet to Be.” We also had an iron trivet festooned with a Pennsylvania-Dutch meditation on aging: “Ve Get Too Soon Old, Undt Too Late Schmart.”
Are these my best years? Am I wise, or not so schmart? It’s easy to get bogged down in what I can’t do anymore, and I’m really good at complaining about aches, pains and limitations (just ask my long-suffering husband.) I’m trying to give myself an attitude adjustment. There are plenty of opportunities worth pursuing in my later years that aren’t constrained by the candles on my cake. Like writing.
My writing career developed as I finished up my long overdue undergraduate degree in my late 40’s. When I was 18, IU-Bloomington held too many distractions, but closing in on 50, I was ready to buckle down and study when I enrolled at IUPUC. I was older than most of my fellow students, but I loved my time there. My youngest son, in his early 20’s then — and also in college — asked me, “Mom, you’re not one of those annoying older students who sit in the front row and answer lots of questions … are you?” Busted. Yep, that was me.
My English professor, Dr. Judith Spector (now retired), saw my writing potential, gave me lots of encouragement and recommended me to The Republic. At that time, the newspaper was looking for a cross-section of locals to write for their “Community Columnist” project. I was part of that effort for several years, then gravitated to Prime Time, writing feature stories as well as this column. I’m 70 now, still writing my column, and doing other freelance writing. I enjoy it immensely, and I think (hope) my writing has improved over the years. The great thing is, I can keep this up until my brain gives out, which, come to think of it, might be sooner rather than later. I am not so quick on the draw putting names with faces anymore or finding the right vocabulary words. It’s like all that stuff is crammed in a cloud hovering over my head, just out of reach. Eventually the cloud lets loose and rains down on me … usually at three in the morning when it does me no good whatsoever.
I asked friends on Facebook about new things they’re pursuing in their golden years. My friend Barb, a retired cardiac nurse, took a deep dive into genealogy and ended up garnering a long-hoped for D.A.R. designation. Lisa, a friend from high school, retired from a career as a paralegal and then re-upped for a part-time paralegal job online, and is happy with her decision. “I will make twice as much as I did full time and I can wear my bunny slippers.” Yay for bunny slippers! Win-win!
Grandma Moses started painting at age 78 and Laura Ingalls Wilder began writing her “Little House” series at 65. Fauja Singh started running marathons at age 89 and didn’t retire from running until he was 102. He had this to say about his late-in-life pursuit: “The first 20 miles are not difficult. As for the last six miles, I run while talking to God.” I love that quote, and no doubt my mom would’ve loved it, too. I can hear her saying, “Now, that’s words you can hang your hat on.”
