Growing Old - The Mame Way

Sep 21

This month marked the 20th anniversary of 9/11. The trauma, grief, and loss so many of us feel from that horrific day are immeasurable and do not lessen regardless of another year that passes. But personally, what I couldn’t wrap my head around on this particular year was something measurable, something quantifiable: simply, ‘twenty years.’ How is that possible? How has time flown by so lightning-fast? How am I old enough to now be twenty years away from that fateful day that I can recall like it was yesterday? Of course, I feel immense gratitude to be alive and to have the luxury of counting the days and years since 2001. But when did the years start passing at such a rapid pace?

In my teens and 20s, they seemed to drag on endlessly! My grandmother always warned me with a red lacquered fingernail pointed my way, ‘The older you get, the faster time flies. Mark my words!” I would eye roll. I’ve heard aging parents say of their growing children, “The days are long but the years are short.” It didn’t really click.

Until now. And I am stunned at the accuracy of such words.

Coming to terms with the passage of time and with age is something we all face, especially these days with Instagram always calling attention to younger, svelter bodies on our feed; Facebook recalling memories from a decade ago reminding us of our own younger, svelter selves; and botox billboards lining the highway. On 9/11, I pulled out several shoeboxes of photographs and pored through photos of my early days in New York City. How it all seems like yesterday, yet we all look so different. The outfits (I still miss those red leather winkle pickers), the old flames, the friends I still hold dear, and others that faded into obscurity. Our phones with antennas and without cameras.

I was emailing with Owen Marcus, co-founder of EVRYMAN about the topic of aging. He is wise and wonderful and I consider him a mentor. He reminded me that life is a series of transitions of deaths and rebirths. Of others. Of our own selves.

What he said really struck me. So many births and deaths in our lives. So many starts and stops in our journey. Do we stop to celebrate or mourn these?

It’s easy to focus on the deaths. The death of my full head of hair! The death of my marriage. The death of relationships. The death of my career as an editor. The death of life before social media. But looking through my piles of photos all gloriously jumbled together was a celebration of so many moments in life. The only good thing about Facebook for me is the morning ‘memories’ alert. I get to scroll through 12 years of moments that can spark so much joy (albeit with the occasional tinge of regret or nostalgia).

Like my morning Facebook memory moments, there are things we can do for ourselves when mortality bubbles up in our consciousness to help us reflect on the good and keep it going:

Focus on what we are grateful for. What have you accomplished? What are you looking forward to?

Reconnect with old friends. I’m still in touch with two of my dear friends, Mark and Mary, who stayed with me in the aftermath of 9/11. This is a time each year we reflect together.

Create new hobbies and routines. I started a kettlebell class in 2019 that changed my life. I still go 3-4 times a week and never had any idea I would enjoy working out as much as I do. Plus my doctor is very happy and picking up my hearty little bricks of Scottish Terriers isn’t quite so difficult these days.

Revive old hobbies. What were you doing 20 years ago that you miss doing now? I adored taking pictures and cataloging them. So I dove deep into my boxes of photos, organized them, scanned some to send to friends, and ordered some archival paper envelopes to keep them all ship shape for the next 20 years.

Feeling like you haven’t accomplished your goals? Time to set some. Feeling like the years are passing you by? Let’s talk about it. Still searching for your life purpose? It’s never too late. I’m here to help.

And when it comes to life and death, it’s often said that we only live once. Perhaps it should be said that we only truly die once. We have the opportunity to live every single day. So as Auntie Mame exclaims, “live, live, live!” Carpe diem.