Sometime in her 50s, my mother started using the expression “for the duration.” She used it when referring to something that she purchased that she anticipated would last the rest of her life, like a piece of furniture. It helped her justify the cost, as she would never need a replacement. It made me smile when she said it, because we all knew that she only said “for the duration” to allay her discomfort in buying something expensive. But both she (and I at the time) never expected that the end of “the duration” was anywhere in sight.   

I first started using the term in my 60s, when I needed some expensive dental work, including implants. The cost seemed quite high to me, but I readily agreed to the procedures once I realized that they would be “for the duration.” I knew the implants would be useful to me for the rest of my life.

And I have been thinking about this phrase even more since retiring from my full-time work as a research scientist. Not anticipating any more major life changes— like career changes or household moves—I sense I am now living in “the duration” for me.

 I have decided to view this as a time of opportunity. I had a successful professional life and made some important contributions to my field, and I raised children who are happy and productive in their lives. So I am done with some of life’s major milestones. My husband and I are in good health and financially comfortable, so I can see “the duration” as one with many possibilities and choices.

Not to be somber, but at the very end of her life, my mother lay in a coma for over a year, with a feeding tube going directly into her stomach. This was her final “duration,” but unfortunately one in which no more choices could be made.  I have decided to welcome this time in my life, a time in which I can make so many choices- including about the work I do, people I am with, and places I go.

There are some things that surround me that I hope will continue to be there, like dear friends and family, and good health. And I will no doubt lose some of these. There are other things likely to be there for the duration that I will always cherish- art, photos and books that I have collected over the years. And there are even some things likely to stay with me that are no longer of any use –like favorite clothes items that are too small, fancy dinner serving pieces and old tax documents.

And there is a Yiddish expression that my mother used that I find helpful – khap arayn (kh pronounced with a guttural kh sound) – that literally means “grab it in” or colloquially, “seize the opportunity.” In other words, enjoy the good things in life while you can. So that’s where this takes me. I plan to do that for the duration.

As I passed the full-length mirror on the street, and saw a graying, stocky woman, I knew it was me- but didn’t fully believe that. Who IS that ? I wanted to ask.  How could that be me? And I remembered how I thought of older people when I was young. And some of the stereotypes that older people evoke.

My first-grade teacher, although tall, was a bit overweight, and wore sleeveless blouses in the warm weather. When she wrote energetically on the blackboard we could all see her batwings- the hanging flesh under her upper arms- swinging back and forth.  Some of us laughed, and thought of her as a special species… certainly not anyone we would ever look like.

And I remember the aunts and uncles who came to visit us when I was a child. Some were quite talkative and seemed engaged in life. But others, brought to my house by their spouses, just sat, speaking little, and dutifully rose to go home when their spouse was ready to leave. I remember wondering if they were so quiet when they were home and if their entire lives were filled with silence. As a teenager I believed that once someone got into their 60s they were almost done with life, and withdrew to await the end.  

The stereotypes of older people include slowing down, memory loss, less energy, declining health, not in touch with new technology, loneliness. They all influenced my anticipation of aging with some dread. But as with other stereotypes I am finding that they are often untrue. And those that are true may not have a significant impact on my daily life.

I associate various decades of my life with the activities that were prominent for me during those periods. I can readily answer Who WAS that?  In my twenties I was figuring out the work that I wanted to do, dating, and going to graduate school. My thirties were especially busy- falling in love, marriage, having two children, and completing my doctoral studies. In my forties and fifties, taking care of my young children and building my career as a research scientist was a focus. My sixties brought  a new sense of freedom- children launched, moving back to the city from the suburbs, and eagerly engaging in city life.

And now, in my seventies, since retirement from my full-time work, it is time to figure out what this decade will mean for me, and answer Who IS that? Although there are some models of older women in the media, most don’t fit me. I recently saw pictures of Jane Fonda in her 70s and 80s- still thin, beautifully coiffed, no facial sagging, and no batwings. She and other women entertainment figures appear in the media looking glamorous, often revealing a hint of cleavage. Not for me, not ever and not now.  Other women recently in the media who made major contributions in their 70s include Madeline Albright and Ruth Bader Ginsberg. But they’re not models for me either… they were in positions of power that had international impact. There are also some extraordinary artists, like the writers Alice Munro and Margaret Atwood, who were still creating wonderful stories in their 70s and beyond. They continue to build on their lifetime achievements, and that’s not me either. Although I was successful as a researcher, and headed a national Drug Use/HIV Research Center for over 20 years,  I am looking for new sources for work and pleasure. And there are many older women I see in ads, on the TV and other media- often as examples of the benefits of medications, or of senior living facilities. Being relatively healthy, these don’t apply to me either. At least not yet.

Why did you stop dying your hair ? my older sister recently asked. My immediate answer was that I always thought being natural was what I wanted, and I waited until after I retired to stop dying my hair, as I didn’t want to look older than my colleagues. But I know there are other reasons. I no longer want to feel that signs of aging need to be hidden or covered over. I choose to embrace my aging and even more, to find new tasks for my 70s and beyond, perhaps with new meanings. And I feel that these changes – letting my hair become its natural color and seeking new activities and pleasures in life- provide an important lesson for my children and others I care about. As was true of me, most of them can’t imagine that they will ever be my age- but I don’t want them to fear it, or try and deny it when that time comes to them.

So this is my decade, defined by more opportunity for reading, writing, traveling, talking with those I care about, and new activities still in development. And I believe that my age group and lifestyle should get more attention in the media. It’s fine to see and learn about older glamorous women, women of international distinction, artists still productive as they age, and even those in need of medication or health care. But attention to older women as simply engaged in everyday life and pursuits seems under-represented. More of those models are needed.

I am learning that the answer to Who IS That? at this stage of my life can be complex and evolving. Yes, the health aspects need attention, and more time is devoted to them. But I still have aspirations for activities to provide pleasures and the sense of fulfillment I have strived for in past decades. It’s not very different now, in fact there is more time for the pursuit. Wait your turns, my dears, you will get here some day too.

In a previous blog entry, I wrote about gender differences in sensory capacities- vision and hearing. I knew it would be the first of several entries, because there are gender differences in other areas too, like some behaviors at home and on the road:

Finding abilities

Stories about primitive societies refer to gender differences in the roles of hunters and gatherers. Men were seen as the hunters of animals, and women as the foragers or gatherers- finding local plants and berries. There has been some debate as to how rigid these gender differences were. However, based on my experiences, and on what other women have told me, these role differences continue into current times.

Men have difficulty finding things in the house, even in confined places, like the refrigerator. For example, when my husband is looking for something in the refrigerator, he often can’t find it, and calls on me for assistance.  I can readily locate it in front on the shelf, or I can see it behind another item. I have heard of this difficulty in finding things in the refrigerator as having “man eyes.” And women have told me that this condition extends to other items in the house, like an inability to find reading glasses, the TV remote, and keys. In many homes, the woman is the designated “finder.”

Behaviors while driving

Many explanations have been proposed for the consistent reports that men are less willing to ask for directions when driving. There appear to be several reasons for this: some men may feel it’s more important to show their independence, and they like to problem-solve, whereas women may be more social and goal-oriented. But what I don’t understand is how some men use the GPS in their cars. They may be very willing to use this driving aid, but they are more likely to disagree with the directions provided and follow what they believe to be a better route. I, on the other hand, am very glad that I am being given exact instructions about how to get somewhere and eagerly follow the directions given.

Also, although I think that men and women are similar in driving abilities, why is it that when men drive the *&^%$# drivers all come out? Perhaps it’s something hormonal that attracts bad drivers to them. And when I take an Uber or a taxi, I am happy sitting in the back seat and relaxing, and thinking about my plans for where I am going. But men are more likely to stay on alert when in a car driven by someone else. They watch the traffic and sometimes make suggestions to the driver. Perhaps they are afraid that the *&^%$# drivers will find them.

I am certain that there are men who can easily find things in the refrigerator and women who can’t, and there are women who ignore GPS instructions. Identifying these differences with one’s partner may be helpful in dividing up daily tasks, so that common goals can be more happily reached- most of the time.   

The Apgar test for newborns wasn’t developed until after I was born. I’m sure if it were in use at that time, I would have worried that I might not do well.

I always worried about how I would do on tests. Throughout my school career I studied hard, often cramming the night before an important exam. And I generally did very well … but that never reduced my anxiety about the next test. I scored high on achievement and IQ tests taken in the 4th grade and since the school had no programming for “gifted” children, this led to my skipping a whole grade. This was probably not the best thing for my emotional development, since I was now in a class where I didn’t know anyone, and all the other students were older than me.  I learned that doing well on tests would not necessarily put me in a place where I was happier.

As I moved along in my school career, tests started having greater importance. Achievement tests determined that I got into a Special Progress class in junior high school, meaning that I did the three years, 7^th-9^th grades, in only two (skipping another year!). A little later, the SAT score influenced my college admission and the GRE was needed for graduate school.  I prepared and did well on these tests, even with the angst that surrounded them for me. I looked forward to a time when I would no longer have to take tests.

But other types of tests played important roles in my academic career. A Spanish language placement test determined which language class I would take in my college freshman year. I was ambivalent about how well I wanted to do on this one; in addition to my general need to do as well as I could on any test, I knew that if I did really well, I might be in a class with students who I couldn’t keep up with. As it turned out, I scored well on this test and was placed in a class focusing on Spanish literature, including reading Cervantes’ Don Quixote in Spanish. Too bad- I think an advanced Spanish conversation class would have been more useful. This was another time that doing well may not have gotten me the best outcome.

Throughout my student years I had various kinds of written tests- multiple choice, fill-in, true/false, essay, open-book and take home. I preferred multiple choice as I could often recognize the correct answer to difficult questions, and I usually knew how well I did by the end of the exam. My most important oral test was my dissertation defense. I was so well-prepared for that one, once it was over I felt I wanted them to ask me more questions. I knew I would likely never again be called upon to draw on that knowledge. It was the only time I ever wanted the testing to continue.

And there have been other kinds of tests I became familiar with. I needed to take a licensure test to get my driving license- written and road tests. I studied and prepared for these, but the angst was minimal, as I knew I could simply take them again if needed. And when I sought counseling, I was given psychological tests, including personality tests and even a projective test.  As a behavioral research scientist I also administered tests to study participants, including attitude tests and scales to measure psychological status. These were all helpful in trying to understand participants’ behaviors and views. It seemed that tests were part of my everyday life.

When I became pregnant, a new set of tests were needed after the actual pregnancy test. There was amniocentesis for genetic defects, ultrasound to help monitor the pregnancy and frequent blood tests to screen for potential conditions harmful to the fetus. In addition, since my husband and I are both Ashkenazi Jews, we were tested for Tay Sachs, as we were at higher risk for this genetic disease. Although this is now detected through a blood test, at that time the test required the collection of tears. These pregnancy/fetal tests all raised new concerns, especially since I had no control over the outcomes. There was no way to study or prepare to have a good outcome and the potential impact was not just for me- it could have profound impact on the child I was carrying and my family.

As I got older and began having an annual physical, other kinds of testing became important in my life – diagnostic tests to identify any health problems. These included regular blood tests and procedures such as mammograms.

I am now reaching the age where some of this testing is no longer recommended.  As I have no family history of cancer- mammograms, colonoscopy and pap smears are not considered necessary for my age group. I think this is because if these cancers are first detected later in life, chances are they will progress slowly and are not likely to be fatal. In other words, I am likely to die of something else and the benefits of testing no longer outweigh the risks.

So, although vision and hearing tests continue as I age, since acuity of these senses have begun to decline, I thought my testing needs were diminishing. But I was wrong. First – any testing now seems to involve referral for further testing or assessment. Vision testing led to the need to evaluate me for cataract surgery, and blood testing identified the need for monitoring my cholesterol and for treatment of a rare bone condition (Paget’s disease). It’s clear that my testing days will continue.  And COVID has introduced a whole new level of testing needs. The recommendations and requirements for COVID testing mean that I now test before and after going on plane trips and prior to doctors’ appointment. The recent surge in COVID omicron variant infections has led to requests for testing prior to going to events with family and friends. I even keep a stash of home testing kits for easy access.

I have concluded that there are several major categories of testing: for academic and achievement-related aspects of life it is a way of bringing some objectivity to assessments and can assist in progress; for health purposes it can help in diagnosis and to monitor the impact of treatment; and for aging folks it can provide early identification of declining health needs. And as for COVID testing – at least for now – it appears to have become a unique category: on a population level it provides a tool to monitor the overall progression of the pandemic, and on the individual level, it can help identify when to isolate and when it is safe to be with others.  

My anxiety about tests has finally declined. I am glad that I no longer have to take tests to provide measures and judgments of my competence, as they did in school. Nor do I have to study or even do all-nighters for the tests I now take. And I am grateful that many of the tests I take exist, as they can provide important information about my health.  But sometimes I feel annoyed at the frequency needed and the number of appointments to be made. I guess I get a little testy.