Yesterday my grandma turned 98.
It’s been a rough year for the elderly. She ended up in a nursing home just before the Great Pandemic (remember that?) If not for slipping on some ice, she'd likely still be living independently in her condo, not necessarily a better circumstance given the travails of 2020.
It’s her mobility that gets her into trouble. No cane. No walker. Her legs are almost too healthy, while her sense of balance is... at times suspect. A number of slips and falls over the last ten years have caused more broken bones than I’d want to endure in a lifetime. Incredibly, her body has healed itself – and still, no walker!
It makes me think of football players who complain about slower recovery times when they’re in their 30s. I wonder how they’ll do in their 90s.
It’s incredible, when you think of it, how many people are now living independent, productive lives in their 80s and 90s. Such is the golden age we live in (no pun intended).
My co-worker's in-laws are in their 90s, still happily married (I actually don't know how happy, but they've learned to co-exist for almost 70 years), living in the same home they raised their family. Two of the most productive people I know on earth (and yes, I know a lot of people on earth) are both nearing the age of 90. They make me tired just thinking about how many activities they’re involved in. Perhaps I’ll have more energy as I age...
My mom had a similar thought when she reflected on the life of her late father. The number of organizations and activities he was involved in throughout his life was surreal.
This may be an overgeneralization, but younger generations are not quite as involved. Or as willing to sacrifice for a cause. My grandpa voluntarily joined the army during World War II. Who would do that today? Back then, thousands of young people did.
The Queen of England is turning 95 this April and I don’t think she has any intention of slowing down. Like the Energizer Bunny, she just keeps going and going... which is quite a feat given the amount of ridicule and scandal she’s had to endure throughout her reign. Watching The Crown gave me a new appreciation of how difficult the job is. (This is somewhat unrelated, but as she is approaching that centennial milestone, will the Queen send a congratulatory greeting to herself when she turns 100?)
This generation, the most at risk of dying from covid-19, has been called the Greatest Generation. There’s something to be said for that.
Maybe it’s because they lived in a different time, when things weren’t so convenient. Even my mom, as I’ve recently learned, went to a one-room school house by horse and buggy for her first year of school. But then they got school buses and she got soft, like the rest of us. (Just kidding, she still has that farm girl grit.)
I would imagine living a life absent any modern conveniences toughens you up. Most people who grew up in the 1930s became who they are because of the hardships they endured.
As I work at a computer from the comfort of my home (yes, in my pajama pants), I can only speculate.
