After marking age 60 with multiple celebrations, I planned on making the next big one — five years out — a quiet one. So long as I’d still have my partner Paul, my sister Barb, amazing friends, my whiny terrier Shea, and fulfilling work as a psychotherapist and writer, nothing elaborate would be required to feel properly feted!
A few months before turning 64, two life-changing events occurred — the pandemic shut New York City down and I was diagnosed with breast cancer. My birthday was spent video-chatting with friends and family, wearing a chartreuse beanie perched on my bald head.
A year later, cancer-free, Paul and I celebrated my 65th birthday in Big Sur, toasting the sunset with Aperol Spritzes at Nepenthe, a cliffside restaurant with wraparound views of the Pacific.
Back in the myopia of daily existence, daily creaks and sags were frequent reminders of age. I focused on the grit and grace of my psychotherapy clients whom I am privileged to help grapple with the illnesses, disabilities and losses that are inevitable companions along a long life. Here are some of the lessons they have taught me. Their wisdom is a guide in accepting my lack of invincibility and in creating new beginnings.
Mastering the Art of the Zigzag
Shortly after her 72nd birthday, this retiree called for her initial therapy appointment. Until recently, running and aerobics had been her go-to depression, grief and stress relievers. A year-and-a-half after the death of her husband of 40 years, worsening osteoporosis meant these outlets were bringing more pain than release. Her doctor suggested she stop activities involving high-impact exercise, bending, running or twisting. "I’ve always been someone who could roll with things,” she explained during our first visit. “But at this stage, I’m afraid rolling will cause me to break a hip."
I told her "you’re not off the hook" as the CDC recommends that seniors do moderate-intensity activity for at least 150 minutes a week. She did find new paths to fitness — water aerobics, walking, tai chi and joining a bike riding group. She recently reported: "Yeah, sometimes I miss tennis but when I hit a roadblock instead of feeling defeated, I figure out a zigzag."
The lesson here for me: The only thing totally under my control is a resilient spirit.
Taking a Romantic Leap: "It’s Now or Never"
When we began working together 15 years ago, the then 60-year-old author declared an early failed marriage had soured her on creating legal binds to another human being. Initially, my patient proclaimed her purpose for seeking therapy was to appease her adult daughter who didn’t want her mother to spend her golden years alone. However, as she grew more comfortable in our sessions she recalled repeatedly witnessing her father "treat mom like dirt."