At 59-years-old, I think about how many years I may have left and what my quality of life will be as I age. I’ve experienced enough of life, through my parents and relatives, to be guarded about my “golden years.” I had an uncle who lay helpless in a nursing home for 10 years. Who would want that? My aunt spent her last years there, too.  When she died, I cried, but more out of joy for her than anything else. She was a strong Christian woman who could count on a joyful eternity.

My father wouldn’t consider assisted living, even though he fell and couldn’t get up, he could barely walk using a walker, and he had multiple medical problems. Eventually, he gave up his home and his car and made the move. He made good friends there, and considered it his home by the time he died. Nonetheless, he often talked about how hard it was to be old. He said more than once, “I wish God would turn out the lights.”

Old age is rough, no matter the person. I’d begun to think it would be better to die younger, say in my 70′s, before life becomes intolerable. Then I met Mary. She just celebrated a 95th birthday, and still enjoys her life.

Mary lives alone in the house she and her lifelong husband built. Her daughter and granddaughter live nearby and look after her. She wakes up when she’s ready, lives in her nightgown, a soft terrycloth robe, and bootie slippers. She makes her own breakfast. She likes a couple of strips of bacon and an egg, or a packet of oatmeal. She has a favorite chair she sits in and she spends the day doing word puzzles, reading the paper, or watching TV. She keeps snacks by the chair: nuts, crackers, and candy. She told me that she loves to eat and that she can eat anything. Amazing for a 5’2″ woman who weighs 88 pounds. I told her she’s better off than I am, because I have many food allergies, including corn. She said, “Oh, honey, look at all the foods you’re missing out on. What’s life worth without a good piece of summer’s sweet corn?”

Mary is sharp as a tack. She said she’s been through all kinds of serious surgeries and she always pops back.

Last time I saw her she whispered, “You know, I may have cancer.” I whispered, “Why do you think that?” She explained that she’d had a stomach surgery for cancer, but doctors said they got it all. Then, she heard a doctor whisper “cancer” to her daughter. The daughter asked, “how long?” Mary heard him say, “6 months.” I asked Mary how long ago that was. She said, “last July.” I asked her if she was having any pain. “I don’t have any pain,” she said smiling. “I think I beat the odds!”

For her birthday, Mary asked her family for a barbecue sandwich, a piece of Kentucky Fried Chicken, and big bars of chocolate. She said at her age she doesn’t need anything else.

I told Mary I wouldn’t be surprised if she makes it to her 100th birthday. She said it wouldn’t surprise her, either. She also said it’s ok if she dies sooner, because she’s a Christian and knows where she’s going.

Mary has 2 goals. She said she’s going to walk around the house more, and she wants to go to the grocery store, at least one more time, to pick her groceries.

Mary’s an inspiration. I can’t believe she was already 36-years-old when I was born.  She helps me see that old age is challenging, but even at 95, life can still be worth living.

Thank you, Mary.
Happy 95th!

©2011 BLN

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