Age Ageism

Age Ageism

The mistake I most regret is thinking my beloved friend Marie Summerwood was getting old.

She didn't seem to be able to remember well.

Getting old.

She had a hard time hearing.

Getting old.

She got tired easier, faster.

Getting old.

She didn't perceive as well as she had.

Getting old.

That's what she thought.

That's what I thought.

It was cancer.

By the time she found it — a lump the size of a lentil in her armpit — a year later, the cancer had metastasized to her liver, her lungs.

She was dead in 127 days.

She wasn't getting old.

She had cancer.

It's not just me.

It's my culture.

My culture thinks we "lose it" as we get old.

And that, to me, is the bedrock belief of ageism.

Which, as I get older, impacts me more.

Here's a statement of ageism in a recent email to me:

"I think the colleges are interesting and beautiful and admire your diligence to creativity at nearly 80."

Is it useful to add the last three words?

How is it different to say:

""I think the colleges are interesting and beautiful and admire your diligence to creativity."

Ageism demeans us.

Saying "at nearly 80," modifies the praise in a condescending way.

Paraphrased: "For someone as old as you are, your creativity is admirable."

That's not praise.

That's ageism.

Creativity isn't an age.

Creating 120 collages over the past four months is admirable no matter how old I am.

My work is not despite my age.

It is a reflection of the power and glory of my age.

My collages are prayers.

A prayer is ageless.

I expect to live for at least another twenty years.

I expect those years to be productive.

Creative.

Challenging.

Fun.

Filled with curiosity.

Ageless.

Age is not an excuse.

Age is not a liability.

Judging ourselves or others based on age is ageism.

Even if it is meant kindly.

There is one place i would like to see ageism.

I believe age is worthy of respect.

When I comment, I'd like ageism to give more weight to my words.

When I opine, I'd like ageism to quell retorts and rebukes.

When I share, I'd like ageism to cherish my story.

I don't want my age to weigh me down.

I want it to weigh down your arguments, squeeze your disinterest until it opens its eyes, bear down on your distain.

Ageism.

It's inside.

It's my culture.

I carry it around.

Ageism.

I give myself credit for doing (whatever) "at my age."

It's okay to just give ourselves credit, no matter our age.

And I never tell myself "You're too old to do that."

Ageism.

I cut myself slack since I'm "so old."

It's okay to take a breather, take a day off, not quite meet the goal, no matter our age.

Occasionally.

Because I'm human, not because I'm old.

Being old means I am worth less, worthless.

Ageism.

Actually, like an aged wine, I'm worth a lot more.

I'm too old to deserve notice.

I need to make way for the younger ones.

Let them have their day.

Ageism.

My success supports yours; it's not a contest.

We can all win.

Wrinkles and grey hair are unattractive.

Ageism.

Sez who?

And I do need to vent about that most egregious and silly statement of ageism:

"I am . . . years young."

Nope.

You are . . . years old.

Claim those years.

Wear them with elan and verve.

It is in beauty.

And it will be in beauty no matter my age.

It is a giveaway dance with the plants.

From first breath to last, no matter my age.

My heart beats as one with the earth's heart, her ancient, incredibly old heart.

No matter my age.

Green blessings surround me.

No matter my age.