Last week I had the pleasure of being a guest on Cavaliere’s Cabaret, a monthly variety show in New Haven’s Lyric Hall hosted by brilliant singer and performer Anne Tofflemire. There was singing, there was dancing, there was comedy, and there was a 10-minute conversation with me about—you guessed it—ageism. The response was terrific, including this lovely follow-up note from a woman in the audience.
As a woman of 68, I thoroughly enjoyed hearing your provocative messages about ageism.
My mother lived until 94, and my best friend is 89–presenting two very different profiles of old age. My friend Miriam is one of the sharpest, most inciteful and kindest people I know. My mother started to “lose it” at around 88, after numerous mini-strokes. But she beat me at Canasta until age 92 and spent many happy hours reading history. And this older woman who had hated her life when she was younger, was happier toward the end than I had ever seen her. I recently bumped into a former nurse’s aide who had cared for my Mom, and she almost kissed me when she discovered that I was Isabel’s daughter. “Your mother was one of the most interesting people that I have ever met.”
Thank you for reminding me that older age can bring many gifts.