My announcement “Senior in the House” caused laughter on a crowded New York City bus recently and brought a couple of young folks to their feet. Their response made me recognize that it’s fine to be over 80 and accept the reality of ageing. A sense of humor helps.
President Biden’s performance in the debate with Trump led me to agree with those who said it was time for him to exit the race and allow someone else to be the Democratic nominee instead. He should not have been waiting for the “the Lord Almighty” to come down, the three weeks or so through Sunday, to tell him it was time to rest. We octogenarians tire more easily than we used to and sometimes jumble our words. Even my energy has dipped in the last few years.
March 2024 was the first time I sat in the reviewing stand rather than marching in the St. Patrick’s Day Parade. I decided to see the spectacle in its entirety instead of fighting the crowds to get to the assigned line-up street. A photo of me in the reviewing stand caused friends to comment on social media that they liked seeing me in a “good place” now having given much of my life “to the ongoing dance of Irish culture.”
As a young immigrant in the late 1950s I’d marched in the parade with other dancers from the McNiff School. Later, the Mayo Society and the Cumann na Gaeilge took preference. In the 90’s, An Scoil Gaeilge – my Irish language school was the focus. And when I joined the ranks of the NYC Public School Teachers, the American Irish Teachers Association inspired me to carry the flag. In my memoir, “Call of the Lark” I weave stories about these early years in America with episodes about life in rural Ireland in the 1940s.
My friends’ comments on social media inspired a feeling of gratitude and sparked further observations about getting older. That time in life after crossing the threshold of 80, is what the late and much missed Malachy McCourt called “the departure lounge.” Those of us who have entered the lounge, may not be ready for takeoff but we should recognize that since reaching this space, life feels different now.
My lifelong experience with Irish dancing has served me well. I’m still able to move with ease and dance a few steps albeit at a slower pace. For several decades, I’ve carried shopping and laundry up and down four flights of stairs in a building without an elevator. My knees are now becoming aware of just how many steps I climb on a daily basis, and I’m faced with the reality of finding another apartment.
When I think of the places I’ve lived since coming to America, the most inspirational and life changing was when I joined a group of young women in a Franciscan novitiate in 1962. We could not have imagined that as life-long friends and all now-former nuns we’d have a daily group text in 2024. The text informs and checks on each other as well as expresses concern when a member of our “band of ’62” has a crisis. For example our friend Louisa spent two nights on a gurney in a Massachusetts hospital recently, Covid was added to Louisa’s reasons for being detained an extra week in the hospital. It was in her own home that she fell and fractured her shoulder. She was “in a hurry” she said when friends came to visit for her birthday. We breathed a sigh of relief when she returned home and we reminded ourselves of the rules and regulations we once laughed at in the novitiate. “Slow down and walk with dignity,” the Mother Mistress used to say. As postulants, we thought that rule was silly. As young women of the Sixties, like those who entered the Peace Corps, we felt we were going to save the world. Now we understand that the rule about mindfulness and open attention to the present moment is essential to everyday living.
Our dear friend Marie gave us plenty of advice before leaving a blank space in our daily group text. Last October when she got tired of the meds that no longer helped, she announced that she wanted get ready for her final days. She asked her caregiver Chloe to tweeze her eyebrows so she’d be “coffin ready” as she playfully put it. She knew she wouldn’t last until Christmas so she wanted to wear her “Christmas jammies” and eat a turkey dinner.
Marie’s daughters, Michelle and Monica, helped her pull on the pajamas with the snow-covered trees and reindeer print. The family decorated her apartment for the holiday that was yet two months away, hanging her wreath and bringing out her non-slip Christmas mat with the holly leaves and berries. Michelle’s invitation on Facebook read: “My mom is asking us to help make today a happy final Christmas. Please come in your best holiday gear and ready to sing.”
And so, in Drexel Hill, Pa., on a starry October night, a chorus formed and stood outside Marie’s window to sing “Silent Night,” “Adeste Fideles,” “Jingle Bells” and other Christmas songs. From the smile on Marie’s face in the photos Michelle shared, we knew just what the experience meant to her mom and all who came to help.
Ageing is all about making life easier for yourself as well as those around you. Hiring someone to clean and do the laundry was an issue for me. I didn’t want to admit that I got tired more often and that the upkeep of my apartment was becoming bothersome. Now I realize that by hiring a cleaner I’m helping someone else make a living and making their life a little easier.
I’m still climbing four flights of stairs but unlike President Biden’s position prior to Sunday’s announcement, I’m not waiting for “the Lord Almighty” to tell me that it’s finally time find another living space. Perhaps the Lord of one of you good Irish Echo readers might help me identify an over-60s community where I might find a writing group, a book club and where my ability to teach low-key dance steps and Gaeilge might be a welcome asset. Thank you.
Maura Mulligan can be contacted by emailing her at mauramulligan[at]aol.com.
