Social Aging: Lessons from my Grandmother
As we approach the seventeenth anniversary of my grandmother’s death at age 96, (something I wrote about when this blog was in its infancy), I have been thinking about the many lessons she taught me about getting older.
She didn’t read self-help books, go to seminars, nor did she live long enough to get online wisdom from “influencers” (YouTube was founded when she was 94, and she had no use for computers). But her approach to aging reflected what is now conventional wisdom: older adults need social interaction for their overall health and wellbeing.
This might seem superficial at first glance, but my grandmother was onto something that clothing merely reflected: she wanted to be part of a community where people were engaged with the outside world (and took pride in their appearance) rather than remained isolated from their neighbors.
She found such a place, across the street from where her sister and brother-in-law moved after they retired. Her brother and sister-in-law would soon follow, moving in down the hall from my aunt and uncle. Another sibling and his wife lived in the next building over. Regular family visits and dinners were an easy walk away. When the walk became less easy, the security guards would drop them off in the community golf cart.
In addition to her spouse and nearby siblings, she had three children, nine grandchildren, and eventually eight great-grandchildren, so someone was always visiting, or she would have an upcoming visit to look forward to. One of my cousins lived nearby and would take her to lunch several times a year.
My grandmother also played the card game canasta with two different groups of women from her building after my grandfather died. Two evenings a week they would play in someone’s home for a few hours after dinner. She considered one game “the good game” because the women in that group were highly educated and excellent players. While the other game wasn’t as challenging, she still enjoyed the company.
These gatherings had some basic rules beyond the rules of the card game:
- Simple snacks only: chips, nuts, or candy, but nothing fancy or filling should be served. This was so no one felt like they had to spend much money or put much effort into hosting.
- No grandchildren talk. My grandmother would say, “we all love our grandchildren, but no one else wants to hear about them.”
- No talking about aches and pains. She would sarcastically call the challenges of aging “the goodies,” and having a space where others might complain about their “goodies” might take the fun out of getting together. Canasta night was a complain-free zone; she warned of the pitfalls of getting into the “poor me” conversations that could so easily happen for people of a certain age.
As someone who came of age during the Great Depression, had decades of life before television, and never used a computer or a cell phone, cards were a great low-tech way to interact with peers for her generation. Besides her family and canasta nights, she went to the pool a few mornings a week to do water aerobics with friends. I think she’d be happy to know that I too have a social circle that centers around a community pool.
She once asked if I played any card games and was seriously worried that I would have no social life when I got older because I don’t. I mentioned that I didn’t know anyone in my age range who played cards, and she acknowledged that people would need to come up with another way to connect.
Finding connections can be a challenge for people as they age. My grandmother was fortunate to be surrounded by family and to live in a community that happened to have a lot of retirees (and it wasn’t even a retirement community or an independent living facility). Having same-aged peers was a blessing, until it became a curse as her friends, and eventually she, succumbed to the inevitable.
She developed age-related macular degeneration (AMD) and could no longer see the cards to play canasta. She once burst into tears when she didn’t recognize me and confused me with another visiting family member because the AMD robbed her of the ability to see faces. It became harder for her to avoid the “poor me” feelings she fought so hard to avoid for so long.
My grandmother didn’t focus on healthy eating, wasn’t big on exercise (other than the pool aerobics with friends) and had several health major problems that could have made her life much shorter than her 96-year lifespan. Staying social, staying positive, and keeping busy probably added years to her life. This is among the many lessons she taught me.
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