Category Archives: “Senior Moments”

Liz David and Eleanor Jaffe provide not only good reading material but also good thoughts about this stage of our lives.

JANUARY “SENIOR MOMENT”: The Superagers!

“Use It or Lose It—-THE SUPERAGERS”

by Eleanor Jaffe

“How to Become a Superager,” (a recent NY Times article) gives added credence to the well-known phrase, “Use it or lose it.”  The author, Lisa Feldman Barrett, recommends that we elders work HARD at intellectual and physical challenges.  She writes, “If people consistently sidestep the discomfort of mental effort or physical exertion, this restraint can be detrimental to the brain,” since, “all brain tissue gets thinner from disuse. If you don’t use it, you lose it….so work that brain.” What is more, she says, “The discomfort of exertion means you’re building muscle and discipline….superagers excel at pushing past the temporary unpleasantness of intense effort.”   (To access this article, click here)

This is great advice that we BOLLI members follow in our course work—right?  But we are, after all, “seasonal learners” with long  interruptions between semesters.   When I started to think about how to keep building brain muscle during BOLLI’s course breaks, I discovered that even vacation can keep us superagers going.

EXERCISING MY SUPERAGER BRAIN WHILE ON VACATION!

I’d like to think that the luxury of being able to purchase and outfit a new vacation condo in Florida has given me and my husband a multitude of opportunities to exercise our superager brain muscles. The challenges of setting up a new apartment are multiple, even to experienced hands like us.  Here’s what I mean:

Let’s see.  First of all, how shall I equip my now empty condo?

I start by making a floorplan and a color chart.  Next, I decide what furnishings we need and make a master list. It doesn’t take long before I have to look for the often misplaced list, but when I find it,  I tend to revise it.  Then, I take it with us when we go shopping.  Back home in Boston, I dig up unbreakable furnishings (linens, trays, small rugs, etc.) that we could use in Florida. I pack them up and ship them down.  (I should have made a list of them…)

Next, I explore the resources my new surroundings have to offer.  What stores carry the things I will need?  How do I find those stores and websites that reliably provide “stuff”?  I consider the advice of the other newcomers we meet about how they achieved the same goals.  I learn about “consignment shops” where “lightly used” used items of often good quality are sold.  Sarasota has about 35.  And this kind of shopping offers adventure!  You never know what you may find—or how quickly someone else will spot that terrific bargain.  I’ve learned to be prepared to purchase on the spot.  I’ve also learned to schedule deliveries so that I will be at home when these purchases arrive.

But furnishing a new space isn’t all that this kind of relocating involves.  Our superaging brains get lots of exercise as we memorize lots of new code numbers: beach locker number, house entrance number, security number, cell phone number, etc., etc., etc.   I have to write them down. (And then look for this list later, too.)  We also have to learn directions: east, west, north, and south–especially difficult for me since I am–and always have been–“directionally challenged.”  We have to learn the names and locations of new streets, highways, restaurants, movie houses, parks, beaches, etc.

And, of course, probably most important of all, we need to think about how to create a new social life.

We make lists of activities that seem like they will be fun or worthwhile.  We locate the best lifelong learning center in the area so we can continue to do classroom learning.  And all along the way, we make new friends.  (The challenge, of course, is to remember their names.)  And, of course, we make sure that we stay in touch with old friends—they are the best.

We also need to schedule visitors.  And that takes special planning—how many and how often is too much?  Of all my tasks, this one seems to be the most challenging to me.

I am reminded of a hint from the renowned psychologist, B.F. Skinner.  He said that as we age, we forget a lot, and we ought to routinely equip ourselves with a pad that we wear around our necks that contain our “lists.”

Do you think pads around the neck could become the new fashion accessory for us “superagers”?

 

Eleanor and Liz
“Senior Moment” feature writers Eleanor Jaffe and Liz David

Eleanor says that, “As I grow older, I am more interested in the conditions, changes, services, culture, and even politics affecting me, my husband of 53 years, my friends — and my 102 year old mother.  What does it mean to be growing older in today’s society?  To satisfy my growing curiosity, I created and taught three different classes about aging issues over the past several years at BOLLI.  My experiences as a social worker and as a high school teacher of English–plus a lot of reading about aging and loss—and, of course, living to 80 (so far)–have prepared me to write this blog.

DECEMBER SENIOR MOMENT: ELLSVILLE

This month, Liz David reflects upon having had to make an important decision…one that many of us have either had to make or may face in the coming years.  As always, she shares her experience with warmth and sensitivity.

ELLSVILLE

By Liz David

When I was pregnant with our fourth child, Ted, in 1969, Barry and I
bought a piece of land south of Plymouth in Manomet.  It was a ¼ acre lot on a bluff overlooking Cape Cod Bay.  We could see, seemingly forever, from the sweep of the Cape at Plymouth to PTown.

We built a Stanmar four-bedroom house with floor to ceiling glass sliders facing the view.  It was an easy to maintain, efficient second home.  Facing the water, a small grassy area led to a flight of seventy-seven stairs.  Standing on the landing looking down and across the view, it felt like we could take flight!

In Manomet, the coastline is rugged–with sand, pebbles, rocks, shells, boulders, forlorn broken lobster traps and buoys.  Oh, and don’t forget the seaweed. Ted collected buoys which were hung around the house on the deck.

In 1972, our fifth child was born, and our family was complete: four sons and a daughter–Jon, Larry, Marc, Ted, and Betsy.  I told Barry I would not be a weekend wife, and he agreed, arriving in time for dinner most nights, braving the traffic from his office in Waltham.

We did what most families do at the beach. We sunbathed, swam, boated, entertained guests, entertained guests, and entertained guests. We had a permanent guest for about 7 years–my mother, Violet.

As time went by, the children grew up. Imagine that!  Barry and I decided to sell the house and look for another in the same general area. We didn’t want to have to deal with the Sagamore Bridge traffic to get to our 2nd home. We thought that maybe, just maybe we would find a home to retire to.  After about a year, we found just the place in Ellisville, South of Manomet. Ellisville was originally a Native American settlement used for fishing and farming, and, later, for many years, it was a fishing village with an inlet that provided safe harbor.

I knew when we approached the house and sat in the car at the top of the driveway that this was the place.  We could see through the windows of the house that it had an expansive view overlooking a marsh that stretched out to the sea.  It was–and, of course, still is–breathtaking.  The house became a home in ways that the first house did not, at least in appearance.  It was built for permanence.  The bedroom was my favorite room.  We could see the sunrise and the moonglow from the bed.  I told Barry, “this is where I want to die.”

Well, it’s not where I’m going to die because  the second home in Ellisville became too much to manage, and we decided to sell rather than move so far away from our family.   Ted, who was born in 1969, is now 47 and  lives in Lincoln with his precious family–his wife Nandini and  daughters  Maya, Mira and Lakshmi.  That is the best reason for staying put!

I wrote the following poem shortly after the sale.

 

AFTER THE SALE

With Recognition to Edna St. Vincent Millay

With my eyes closed I see the sea                                                                      Soft waves undulating toward the shore                                                      Sails flapping, ships calmly traveling in the distance

Closer by – the breeze brushes the marsh grass

Soft green in Summer                                                                                                          Rust in Autumn                                                                                                                      Dull gray as Winter sets in

Herons stretch their graceful necks

Egrets step daintily – feeding                                                                                        Swans a swimming – regal, aloof                                                                                  Crows perched in the trees – calling in conversation

And the hummingbirds fluttering in their perennial dance

With my eyes closed let me pretend                                                                 That the rustle of the leaves in the wind in Sudbury                                     Is the sound of the sea in Ellisville

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Eleanor and Liz
“Senior Moments” feature writers Eleanor Jaffe and Liz David

Liz says…Years ago, when we were in our 40’s, my husband and I bought a sundial with the saying “grow old along with me–the best is yet to be.”  I’m not sure whether or not I believed it then, and I’m wondering whether I believe it now. Stay tuned.