Elasticity of Time

I have recently noticed a strange contradiction in my perception of time. As I get older, I am more aware that my future time is getting shorter. I have completed the great majority of the years I will have. This makes me want to be more deliberate about what I do with the remaining time. Who do I want to spend time with? Where do I want to go? What will be the legacy that I leave? I have many answers for these questions, but generally, thinking about the time I have left leaves me with a sense of scarcity.

In contrast, now that I have been retired for several years, and my husband recently passed away, I no longer have extensive work or caregiving responsibilities. I feel that I have more time in the present, in each new day. And although I am busy most days, filled with activities like household chores, meeting family or friends, reading, going to the gym, writing for my Blog, etc., I have a sense of luxury in time, probably because on most days I have choices about what I will do.

Of course the two time frames overlap, and my current days are filling my remaining years. And yet, I sense a difference, in that the time I have now, my todays, are the only time I have any control over.

And there is another change in my time perception that is happening: time sems to be going by more quickly. When I recently went on vacation, although I was away for six days, in retrospect it seemed even shorter. Where did the time go?  It’s a little scary. I want to say – hey, wait a minute – or a few – I didn’t want that time to go so quickly. But will that be how I feel from now on? When I am enjoying myself time seems to go by faster, but those are the very times I don’t want to experience as fleeting.

Some researchers and popular media articles have noted that time seems to go faster when you get older because you have fewer new experiences to mark the passing time. They recommend that doing new activities and experiences will make it feel that time does not move so fast.  But this doesn’t usually apply to me; often it is when I am engaged in new experiences, and enjoying myself—be it with new people, trips, restaurants, etc., —that time seems to go the fastest. Perhaps my time perception differs according to where I am in the experience- whether I am actually in it as compared to when I am recalling the experience.

But if the remedy for me to slow down time is to engage in activities that are boring, I certainly don’t want that. I think the only solution is to plan and engage in each day and simply experience it, making choices when I can, and enjoying the expanse of time I feel I have within that day. Even planning for things I want to do, like travel, writing a book, or getting a special gift for someone I love, can bring joy. This is another part of an experience, its anticipation, and I can choose what I want to anticipate.  As for the future, it may be diminishing in time, but I have little control over that. In any case, I will only be able to experience it day by day.

Fragments of the Past

For my last birthday party, my daughter framed some old photos of me and placed them on tables around the party room. There was one that captivated me immediately, it was of me and a girlfriend, standing on a beach in our two-piece bikini bathing suits. Mine was a yellow polka-dot bikini, a popular style (and song) at the time. The picture was taken over 50 years ago when we were in our mid-20s. We stood tall, our figures shapely and alluring, and our faces filled with pride and anticipation of our unknown futures. I remember that seeking love and a life partner was one of our hopes at that time.

The photo now sits next to my desk.  My friend and I both had careers, married, had children, and are now widows. We no longer have those shapely figures, and our faces show our ages and the challenges in our lives. It seems so long ago, and yet… I see the  seeds of our futures, and who we are now, in this old photo.    

I recently started clearing out some closets, and I found my laminated PhD diploma, granted from Columbia University over 40 years ago, and closeted for all those years. It seemed vain to hang it in my office—colleagues in my research environment didn’t hang their diplomas either—and it felt even more vain to hang it at home. I took it out, dusted it off, and it now hangs on a wall in my bedroom. I could put it in a more prominent place, but it’s not for show to others. It is just for me.

I cherish these two fragments of my past. That’s me, I remind myself, as I pass each one. They happened at a time when the possibilities seemed endless, and both hinted at my life to come. I now take inspiration from them for my life to be— no longer foreshadowed by youth or by academic achievement—but by hopes and aspirations that still emerge, even at this time in my life.

Untethered

I was tethered for much of my life, with lots of things I had to do. It never bothered me, but I often looked forward to times when I had less responsibility- be it vacations, or when my kids were grown, or retirement.

Through graduate school there were lots of assignments, and most of my life after school- career, marriage and raising children- all brought responsibilities, due dates, places to be at certain times.

After my kids left home and I retired from work in 2019, I believed I finally reached a time when I could feel untethered, with a life guided by more freedom of choices.

That was true for a short time, and then the COVID pandemic emerged. Even within COVID restrictions, I felt I had many choices of activities, and the time in which to do them.  

But new responsibilities emerged when my husband Doug became ill. He had several chronic health conditions that worsened over the last two years of his life- dementia, pulmonary fibrosis and cardiac failure. I hired an aide who came five days a week, six hours a day, giving me a narrow window of freedom to choose what I wanted to do – like meet a friend, go shopping or to a museum- or sometimes just to close the door to my study and read.

I again felt tethered. Like Cinderella, there was a time by which I had to be home, at the end of the aide’s work shift. And I didn’t go out at night or on the two days when we had no aides. Fixing his meals, helping him dress, bringing him things he needed and taking him to doctors’ appointments all took time. I also carefully watched and assisted his movements around the house, to be mindful of his unsteady gait, and the tubing and equipment which brought him life-sustaining oxygen.

When I was home, we could watch TV, talk, and have some meals together. And in nice weather I would take him out on the Plaza that was outside our building, initially using his walker, then in a wheelchair. But he soon became too weak to leave the house.

And then he died.

The house became so quiet: no Doug, no aides, no constant whirring sound of the oxygen concentrator.

So now I am untethered. But it’s not what I anticipated.

When I come into my apartment there is total silence, that seems to reach out to enfold me. Sometimes when I am home I turn on the TV to add sound, I can always get a response from my google nest (she can even tell me jokes), and occasionally I talk to Doug or myself.  But I am acutely aware of being alone. And with my newly found freedom, finding the motivation to do things that interested me in the past can be difficult.

It’s only been a few months, and I miss having someone at home to tell about my day, to ask about theirs and even to ask me to do things for them. And I especially miss being able to talk to Doug, to share news about a neighbor or a grandchild with someone who has the same level of interest and concern.

I guess I have reached a stage where the tethers of my life have dropped away.

And I miss them.  

Unexpected Changes That Aging Brings

In the past few years, I wrote several essays related to changes that aging brings. I anticipated many of these, like changes related to my health, and welcomed others, like having more free time for activities that I care about. But I am also finding some unexpected changes that require adaptations, and even challenge some of the beliefs I always had.

For example, I have had to make adaptations to my drinking habits. From my teen years until just a few years ago, alcohol made me feel uninhibited, and often quite clever. When going out with friends, a cocktail before dinner and a glass of wine or two with my meal enhanced the evening’s experience—of my interactions with my companions and the enjoyment of the food. But I now find that my consumption of alcohol needs changing. It makes me tired, thus shortening the time I can spend with friends, and my remarks no longer seem so clever. Also, drinking interferes with my being able to sleep through the night, and makes me feel lethargic in the morning. So now I limit myself to either a cocktail or a glass of wine, and drink it slowly. This has not reduced my enjoyment of the evening. It also made me realize that I could find ways to reduce the negative effects of unexpected changes that come with aging.

My beliefs about what is important in romantic relationships are changing. In my 20s and 30s, finding a marriage partner was a goal for me and many of my peers. One unmarried friend, in her early 30s, even said that she didn’t care if she got divorced, as long as she could say she was once married. And I always saw dating married men as taboo. But now, as my peers and I are well past the traditional ages for the milestones of getting married and having children, my views are changing. A friend who is my age, and is divorced, is dating a married man. He lives with, and is the primary caretaker of, a wife who has severe Alzheimer’s disease. His relationship with my friend is mutually satisfactory- they are companions when it can be arranged, enjoying activities together.  He makes sure his wife’s needs are met, and there is no intention of changing this arrangement in the future. A different kind of stable “happily ever after” has been reached. I am learning that ideas and judgments I had about relationships may no longer be valid, and arrangements that I never even considered may become the most desirable.  

And as I age, continued adjustments to the adjustments I have made to improve my life are becoming necessary. I have used hearing aids for about five years, and they have greatly improved my hearing. The hearing aid mechanisms fit around the outside of my ears, and although my hair generally covers them, they are sometimes visible. When I first bought them, I was still dyeing my hair a very dark brown, so I got black hearing aids. I thought this made them less conspicuous. I recently had to replace the hearing aids, but since I no longer dye my hair, the black ones would become more obvious. I decided to get a gray matte finish, which blends in better with my current salt and pepper hair color. I do not consider myself vain, yet was pleased and amused as I gladly picked out this new color. I am learning that adjustments to changes as I age must be ongoing, and can bring continued satisfaction.

While these three examples of unexpected changes I have found are quite diverse, they have a similar lesson for me. Unexpected changes will occur throughout my life. Making adaptations in behaviors and beliefs can sometimes result in unexpected benefits.

Congratulating Myself

After retiring from my career as a research scientist, I looked forward to having more leisure time to do some things I was always too busy to do while working.  My days filled up quickly, and despite there being times when I had to do things I didn’t really want to do – like doctor’s visits for me or my husband – for the most part, I did activities I chose to do, like writing essays, visiting cultural sites in NYC, and seeing friends. This felt good, and freeing from the constrictions my work life held.

Surprisingly, however, I also found that there are some things I don’t want to do, but I do them anyway. Sometimes this feels satisfying, but sometimes they are just things I feel I need to do.  So I have decided to congratulate myself for doing them. Here are some examples.

I had several boxes and bags of papers that I needed to review, and I kept putting that off. I recently added a bag with papers from my 2023 taxes to this collection, and I know I needed to review it to see what to throw out and what to file away. That bag sat in front of my desk for several weeks, and I finally did it! The bag was gone! Although there are still other papers to review, I took pleasure from looking at the vacant space I created and wanted some acknowledgement of that. But I knew that visitors to that room could not appreciate or acknowledge what I had done, since they didn’t see it before, and wouldn’t appreciate what I had accomplished.  I decided to congratulate myself, and take pleasure from the space I created.  

I thought of losing a few pounds for many years, sometimes making efforts to cut back on calories.  Recently I became more serious about weight loss, and followed a restrictive regime for about two weeks – including lowering carbs, and not eating after 8PM.  I lost six pounds. I was proud of myself but realized that this accomplishment would not be appreciated by anyone else. I don’t look different, my clothes don’t fit any differently, and even if I lost a few more pounds, now that I am a senior and my body has changed, it would never return to the figure I had as a young woman. But I’m glad the few pounds are gone, and I plan to continue the effort.  Yea for me!

And one more example is based on the fact that I never enjoyed cooking, but I sometimes still do it. My husband retired from his job before I did, and enjoyed cooking for us while I still worked. Coincidentally, his interest in cooking stopped around the time that I retired! So the task was transferred back to me. It continues now that he has several health conditions that prevent him from preparing meals. So I often look for easy solutions for our dinners. We order in food about once a week (often Italian or Chinese cuisines), and this usually provides two nights of dinners for us. There are many frozen prepared meals that we like, and have about once per week. And I discovered the joys of the roast chicken available at my local supermarket. This usually covers another two nights of dinners. But once or twice a week I still do the whole works, including special food shopping for the dinner, cooking, and cleaning up. The dishes are not elaborate, often a simple salmon or chicken entree, with appropriate side dishes, but nonetheless the meal takes substantial time from beginning preparation until the dishes are in the dishwasher. It seems to fulfill my need to feel I can still make a home-cooked meal. And I congratulate myself when it’s over.

I have come to the conclusion that there are some activities which I may not enjoy doing, that may not be appreciated by others, and won’t change my life much, but I choose to do them anyway.  I don’t have to do them often, and I plan to congratulate myself when they are done.

Wandering Outside of My To-Do Lists

I make daily to-do lists. I write my list on a little pad after breakfast each morning, and it serves as a guide for the day. Activities are listed with approximate times, and include errands, like going to the bank, and social plans, like meeting a friend for lunch. Some activities, like writing and going to the gym, may appear several times each week. When I complete a task I check it off, and feel a sense of accomplishment.

When I was working full-time, with a family to take care of, the to-do lists for work and home were all activities I saw as necessary and they took up the entire day. I had to stay goal-focused as I turned to do each task on the list. At the end of most days, I felt I had a busy, satisfying day, and was usually exhausted when I went to bed.

In retirement, I still have obligations and errands I need to do. Since I have more discretionary time, I can do more things that bring me pleasure, like reading and visiting museums. But making my list each day and checking off the  items completed has started feeling insufficient and unsatisfying. There is a downside to making these lists. While they still provide me with concrete plans and goals for the day, they feel confining.

I have decided that in addition to the items I put on my list, there is another category of experiences and activities that I now seek. These are items that don’t show up on my daily to-do lists. In the early years of my retirement the lists gave me a guide and comfort, and the sense of still being busy. Surrounded by achievement-oriented family members and peers throughout my life, being busy had become a goal in itself, a measure of success.  But after several years of doing that, I plan to change the work-based model I have used. Since I have more discretionary time, simply focusing on getting the tasks listed for the day done doesn’t have to be my only goal.

I’m not referring to planning new things, like taking a trip or starting a new hobby. Those are possible too. But some unplanned, unpredictable experiences can emerge from taking advantage of the activities on my list I am already doing, and recognizing the opportunities they can provide. I did it when I was heading home from an errand and stopped to watch a young girl give money to a beggar – this led to an insight about kindness, and an essay I enjoyed writing. And I now often do it by exploring topics on the internet that are tangential to a specific question I was looking up.  This often takes me to entirely hew subject areas.

There are several expressions for what I am referring to, including “being present” for what is going on around me, and “living outside of the box.” Both connote a willingness to go beyond what I have usually done. My old idea, that waking up in the morning and knowing how I would be busy all day was the measure of a fulfilling life, is no longer what I need to live by.

I plan to continue making my daily lists but will also leave time for changing activities when something else, perhaps totally different from what I had planned, comes up. I think that simply having that as a mindset will lead to new experiences and pleasures.  I look forward to wandering outside of my to-do lists.

Pro-aging

I am concerned about changes I experience in my body as I get older. I stopped coloring my hair a few years ago, and the gray has taken over more territory. The cute wrinkles in the corners of my eyes are no longer so localized, or so cute. When I go to the gym, I find that I am more tired after long workouts and must rest for a while when I get home.

So I decided to develop some attitudes that will help me deal with these changes. I have become pro-aging. This means accepting the changes that occur as I get older, and enjoying life the way I am.

I generally like being pro-something rather than anti. Being in favor of something, for me, can more readily be associated with positive and supportive feelings, whereas being against things raises negativity and disagreement. Perhaps that’s why in the abortion controversy, people are either pro-choice or pro-abortion… everyone wants to be on the “pro” side.

For many years, our society has been anti-aging. There is a huge industry that developed in support of anti-aging, with lots of products, particularly creams and lotions. Some include retinol or collagen, and their goal is to moisturize, reduce wrinkles, and, as one of the ads says: “firm, lift and repair skin” in your face and neck. Sounds like a construction job. And something that needs repair usually means that it is faulty! I don’t like the implication of that. There’s nothing faulty about aging, a process that starts at birth.

Other than creams, technologies have also developed for anti-aging, including the use of botox, laser treatments and facelifts. These never appealed to me. In addition to their expense, it seemed they would just be temporary, and require maintenance, taking away from my time to do things I enjoy.

While men use some of these anti-aging products, most of them target women, in line with the emphasis in our culture on women staying youthful-looking. I have tried some of these creams, especially those purported to target wrinkles, but the truth is I am still aging. The creams that I use haven’t even made a dent in that process.

So I plan to stop being anti-aging, and embrace the fact that I am getting older, and the advantages it brings. It’s true that there are some negatives to aging, but there are many benefits, the major one of which is that I am still here. And I find that since retirement I can explore new interests, spend more time with people I love, and do things I never had time for, like writing this Blog! Even simple benefits like getting a seat on the bus, the reduced fare metrocard, and senior discounts at my local supermarket, bring me some pleasure.

And research has shown that there are health benefits to a pro-aging attitude. Those with a more positive view of aging tend to take better care of themselves, have an enhanced quality of life, and live longer.

But be wary- there appears to be a new industry emerging, products now labelled as pro-aging. Many of them appear to be relabeling of the anti-aging arsenal. But I don’t plan to use them, as I think the aging will take care of itself.

Averages May Not Apply to Me

In my professional career as a research scientist, it was important that I know something about averages. When I conducted studies and collected information on many people, averages were helpful in describing the group as a whole.  But I also learned that an average for a group often doesn’t apply to a single person’s circumstances. Sometimes it isn’t even a good description of a group.

For example, if you had 5 people and their ages were 21, 25, 30, 32 and 42, you could say their average age, or their mean, was 30. You would get that by adding up the ages (total is 150) and dividing that total by 5 (the number of people you had). And this looks like a good number to represent this group’s average age.

But if their ages were more spread out (in statistical terms you would say the group had a higher standard deviation)—like 8, 11, 12, 55, and 64—you would still get 30 as an average, but this doesn’t seem as good a number to represent the group. No one in the group has an age that is even close to this average.  

I once heard a joke about a weather forecaster who was reporting on the temperature that he experienced. He had one hand in hot water (100 degrees F) and the other hand on an ice cube (32 degrees F). He reported that with an average temperature of 66 degrees, he was comfortable! Certainly, although this temperature is generally considered comfortable, that wasn’t true in this case.

So sometimes an average may have limited utility, especially in predicting an individual’s circumstance.

So why is this topic important to me?

When I look through the literature about health conditions of seniors, sometimes I get concerned about the seemingly endless list of things that can go wrong with me. I am of an age that is often reported as likely to have various age-related chronic health conditions, like arthritis, asthma, cancer, cardiovascular disease, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease and diabetes. I go for annual physical check-ups, and I currently have none of these conditions. Except for some minor aches and pains, I feel pretty good. The CDC reported that 88% of women over 65 have at least one of these six conditions, and one-quarter have at least three. And the prevalence of these conditions increases with age. So in several groups of women my age, on average, almost all will have at least one of these conditions. But it doesn’t mean that I do.

I think that my reading about all the health problems that can happen to me has raised my fears about aging, and reduced some of the enthusiasm I have had about retirement and my future.  I know that as I age, many of these conditions, and others, are likely to happen to me, some sooner than others. And I know some women my age who already have one or more of these conditions. But maybe I won’t experience some of them, or maybe research will lead to later onset and better treatments.

I conclude that while averages about the percent of women with health problems may accurately describe group characteristics, they don’t necessarily describe me. Knowledge about these conditions has increased my awareness of the need for preventive measures and health screenings, so that I can benefit from early detection and if needed, the initiation of treatment. But I will try to not live as though I am at imminent risk of getting all these conditions. After all, averages for some things may not apply to me…yet.

Pages In-Between

A few days ago, as I opened my journal to continue my daily entries, I realized that several weeks ago I had skipped two pages. I think these pages must have somehow stuck together. There they were- blank pages, sitting in-between pages I had written on, about days that were already in the past. I started thinking, what if I could go back in time to days in my life I had missed, with the knowledge that I had now? What would I put in those pages?

I decided to fill in the pages by stages of my life. And so I began, writing about what I felt had been missing:

In childhood, I would have talked more to my father and tried to get to know him better. He died when I was 12, and was beloved by many family members, so I always thought I had missed something. And my grandmother (Bubba) who was the source of great love and caretaking, I would have hugged her, told her that I loved her. And I would have asked my older siblings to spend time playing with me- they were off with their own friends when they had free time. I had a complicated relationship with my mother; she seemed angry much of the time, I would have asked her why.

For my teenage years, I would have tried to identify my interests, not just follow what others seemed to respect or wanted me to do. I would have started therapy earlier (I started at 19, after finishing college). I was self-critical and somewhat lonely during those years. A caring, supportive mentor would have been helpful to me, personally and career-wise, but that concept wasn’t developed then, and in any case, I can’t think of anyone who would have taken that role.

In adulthood, in my 20s, I worked, went to graduate school, lived with roommates, dated. I remember that as a good time, and wouldn’t use my found pages to add to that. Then marriage, children, work – all were fulfilling, and I wouldn’t change any of those activities either. If possible, I would add more time to develop friendships, to be self-reflective, and try more couples therapy with my husband. While I was successful in my career, I would have taken a more prominent leadership role.

And now, in what are called my senior years, my pages are filled with activities I want to do, with fewer time pressures than I used to feel. They include things like writing essays, reading more, exploring the cultural and other pleasures of Manhattan, seeing friends and family and volunteer work. I wouldn’t change any of these activities, I think I would just try to manage my time to fit them all in regularly.

So what did I learn in looking back at how I would have filled in empty pages from my past? Some themes stand out: in my early years I would add more family connections, and as a teen, sought support in developing career and self-regard. As an adult, my main addition would be to appreciate myself for all I was doing.  Perhaps now I can use what I learned to help others I care for, at various ages and stages.  And for me, despite some past “woulda coulda shouldas,” I know I can’t go back, those pages are done. I plan to focus on all the pages I have left.

I’m Not As Old As I Used To Be

When I turned 65 I knew I was officially considered a senior, yet I didn’t feel old. I was still fully engaged in my career and had no plans to retire any time soon. Now that I am retired and approaching another birthday, I decided to look into the distinctions in ages that are made after 65.

A frequently found distinction is one that divides ages over 65 into three categories: young old: 65-74; middle-old: 75-84, and old-old: 85 and over. Since life spans are increasing, I expect we will eventually need additional groups. Perhaps these new categories will be 85-94, 95-104, and 105-114, and their labels could be “older than old,” “really old”, and “unbelievably old,” respectively.

There is lots of variation in what is considered “old.” In the US you are generally considered old at 65 when you can be on Medicare. But I was happy to learn that the definition of old has changed over time, as our life span has increased. One recent study, based on life expectancy in the US, identified old as 73 for women and 70 for men. It also pointed out that a century ago, women were considered old at about 58, and men at 55—ages that are now considered middle-aged! So, my age is not as old as it used to be.

The age at which you consider someone to be old is also influenced by your own current age. Millenials (born 1981-1996) consider a person old at 59, whereas Gen Xers (born 1965-1980) tag it at about 65. This reminds me of the old Bernard Baruch quote, “old age is always ten years older than I am.” I have felt and expressed that view for many years. But the older I get, the less that seems to apply, especially since even five years older than me now seems pretty old.

When I was young I had family members who I considered old or elderly starting from when they were in their 50s.  I knew some men, like my father, who died in their 50s of cardiac-related disease, and there were other family members in their 60s and 70s who seemed weak and tired. I recently wrote an essay about my mother, describing a time in her life when she was in her 70s, and I referred to her as elderly. I stopped suddenly, when I  realized that I don’t consider myself to be elderly, even though I am in that age group. At that age my mother was frail and had diminished cognitive abilities. I don’t feel that way about myself, yet. I think my use of the word “yet” in that sentence is key to my experiences, and expectations.

And I am less concerned about getting old when I see friends and other people in their 70s and older who are actively involved in life, many still working, some dating, and others even running for President! Phrases like 70 is the new 60, or you’re only as old as you feel, are more frequently heard now, because people are living longer thanks to medical advances and healthier lifestyles.

I have decided that the belief I had that people over 50 can be considered “old” no longer applies, and in particular, negative associations should be discarded.  When I looked up synonyms for old, I found there were some terms that I prefer, like “mature” over “long in the tooth”!  I know that as I age, I will continue to go through the changes related to aging. Hopefully I will have many years ahead. For now, I intend to be fully engaged in activities I enjoy. I expect I may consider myself old once I can no longer do these activities. Furthermore, I take comfort in knowing that I am not as old as people my age used to be.