At Sixty

When these words appear on the pages of the Ashland Times-Gazette, I will have less than forty-eight hours before I cross a major life threshold – turning sixty. There, I’ve said it in print so it has to be true – I’ve read it in the T-G.

How could I possibly be sixty? I don’t feel like I’ve lived that long, nor do I feel sixty, at least most days. Yet as a woman who will have lived in seven decades, two centuries, and even two millennia, I’m finally at that great divide. Yikes!

While I don’t qualify yet for Social Security, I will soon get my own Golden Buckeye Card that is issued automatically by the Ohio Department on Aging, qualifying me for discounts at 20,000 businesses state-wide. Their website assures me that as a Golden Buckeye I am not “defined by my age, but inspired by it, a respected and vital member of my community who continues to grow, thrive and contribute.” So glad for their affirmation and support!

The subject of my doctoral dissertation was vocational identity and direction for women clergy at midlife, and this milestone birthday bumps me out of that age category. My midlife days are coming to an end, if not already in my rear-view mirror. I’m even at the endpoint of what Sarah Pearlman calls late midlife astonishment. By fifty-five, I was pushing that limit, and now at sixty, I will clearly be in the period of life author Gail Sheehy describes as the passage where “time starts to pinch.”

Some of the metaphors for midlife I found helpful were an autumn gospel (Kathleen Fischer), discarding shells (Anne Morrow Lindbergh), and casting off old maps or shedding skin (Joyce Rupp). In comparison, am I facing a life marked by eternal winter as in “Frozen” or the “Chronicles of Narnia”? Will I still be able to bend down to pick up new shells on the beach? Do I have to spend my older years depending on a GPS instead of an actual map? Hopefully I can discover guiding metaphors for my sixties and beyond that won’t include wrinkled prunes or sagging body parts.

What I also discovered in my doctoral research was that women in different age groupings can be defined or described by terms that may feel more or less flattering. While I’m comfortable with words such as elder, grandmother, and wise woman, I’m not too sure about crone. Crone? Isn’t that an ugly, withered old woman? Yet Ann Kreilkamps redefines the word. “In ancient days,” she writes, “Crone meant Crown. Crone is the messenger, translator of life’s passages, midwife to Death, Birth and Rebirth. Crone is the stage at which what was formerly passionately and often painfully or violently expressed is now recollected in tranquility.”Maybe that description needs to wait until seventy.

In the literature on life passages is the category Erik Erikson outlined in his work on the stages of psychosocial development. He describes the task of generativity versus stagnation as the ability to create or nurture things that will outlast the individuals as they guide the next generation. In choosing generativity, we claim an optimism about humanity and find ways to contribute to the world around us. As Samuel Ullman suggests, “Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul.” Fortunately, I’ve got until at least age sixty-five (or later) before I need to move fully into Erikson’s last developmental stage of ego integrity versus despair that hopefully results in wisdom rather than regret.

Let me put aside the psychological mumbo-jumbo and return to the landmark birthday. Will this be a traumatic crossing into a new decade of life? I don’t think so. There won’t be black balloons or “over the hill” hats or canes to mark the date, just precious time with family. Elder, wise woman, crone? I’ll face those titles in the days ahead, but for now, I’m satisfied with “Nana” as only the lovely Madelyn Simone can say it. Now just give me that Golden Buckeye discount card and I’ll be good to go.  

An Elder in Our Midst

I’ve had a soft spot in my heart for McDonalds for many years, dating back to a set of early Golden Arches near my childhood home. I’m extremely grateful for all the Big Mac purchases over the years that lined the pockets of Ray Kroc, so that his widow could leave a legacy gift to the Salvation Army for the Kroc Center here in Ashland. But our friendship is on rocky ground, for when I drove through McDonalds the other day to order soup and a soft drink, the drive-through voice said, “You’re a senior citizen, right?” Ouch!

Gray hair, check. Grandmother status, check. But I am still not a card-carrying Golden Buckeye. While the years are creeping up on me, I’m still in my fifties, and in my book, that’s not elderly. However, the woman at the window (who looked at least as old as I do) explained that her restaurant offers a senior discount to those fifty-five and up, so I saved a dime on my Senior Coke. Woohoo!

That same night, I gathered with friends and family of Josianne Stone to honor her as the June Metcalf Elder in Residence at the Salvation Army Kroc Center. This particular program was birthed from the desire to recognize the elders of Ashland, those willing to share their wisdom and giftedness with our community, especially to the generations younger than theirs.

When we first explored the development of this program, I did not know there is a group that calls themselves The Elders. They are independent global leaders, brought together by Nelson Mandela, who offer their collective influence and experience to support peace building, help address major causes of human suffering and promote the shared interests of humanity. While our honored elder is not a global leader like Jimmy Carter or Desmond Tutu, her life story speaks of the same themes as these prominent world elders, for as a young woman, she was part of the resistance to the Nazis in Belgium during World War II.

Like many survivors of the horrors of war, Josianne seldom talked about her experiences over the years, saying, “When the war was over, it was over.” Yet when her grandson Lucas was in middle school, she was asked to talk with his class about the war, the occupation, and the Holocaust, and the years slipped away as she recounted the deprivation and fear of the people of Belgium. Her words were so powerful that her family and friends encouraged her to record her thoughts for future generations, available on a YouTube video called the Josianne Stone Story.

In preparation for the Elder in Residence reception for Josianne, coordinator Judy McLaughlin spent time in conversation at Josianne’s home. As they chatted, Judy mentioned that her own father had lost his life during World War II, and Josianne expressed her personal thanks for the sacrifices that Americans made to defeat the Nazi forces and to secure freedom for the people of Belgium. For Judy, those words provided a watershed moment. As she said to Josianne on Tuesday evening, “Your expressed gratitude moved me from a lifelong sadness to an understanding of what my loss meant to you.”

Life didn’t stop at the war for Josianne, for she studied fashion design in Paris and is an accomplished seamstress, a profession that supported her when she first immigrated to the United States. She is also a gifted artist, and though she didn’t take her first art class until 1984, she took the advice of her instructor to “be prolific,” describing her art as “humbly reproducing God’s creation.”

After being privileged to hear Josianne Stone’s story and to witness the full life she continues to lead, I came to an aha! moment of my own: if this is what it means to be a senior citizen, an elder of our community, sign me up – even without the McDonalds’ discount! Thomas Carlyle understands: “Old age is not a matter for sorrow. It is a matter for thanks if we have left our work done behind us.” [Stone’s works are on display at the Kroc Center through the end of November, with notecards available at Enjoy! in downtown Ashland].