By Katharine Esty — Columnist
As I turned 90 this summer, I saw the world anew. Not exactly through rose-colored glasses, but rather with a fresh awareness that I am very old now. I am changing in surprising ways, especially as I contemplate my future.
“You are never too old to be what you want to be” has been my mantra for decades. I have successfully reinvented myself over and over about every 10 years throughout my long life and have loved each phase. But what about now? What do my 90s have in store for me?
Here’s a short version of the changes I’ve been through.
I was a stay-at-home mom for nine years before going back to school for a master’s in social work (MSW). I then worked for 10 years at a community mental health center as a psychotherapist and manager. At age 50, I pursued a doctorate at Boston University’s night program in social psychology and then led a diversity consulting firm for 20 years. Later, I returned to being a psychotherapist until retiring at 87. My last book, “Eightysomethings,” about aging today, was published when I was 85. This journey was possible because I always had encouragement and support from my husband, John, and we were in a position to hire help when we needed it.
What’s too old?
Since turning 90 myself, plus being bombarded by all the media about what’s too old, my views have changed. I know now — don’t laugh — that I am too old to be president of the United States. What I mean is that I am too old for major responsibilities and managing large-scale, several-year projects. My energy is more limited now, and I am aware I am often forgetful despite efforts to stay on top of details.
This last year, my own aging, and that of both Trump and Biden, has convinced me that we need age limits for the presidency and also for the judges on the Supreme Court. Unfortunately, when people have great power, it is hard for many of them to give it up, even when they are sick or their effectiveness is significantly diminished. I want to remind everyone of the splendid example set when George Washington refused a lifelong term as president, demonstrating that no one is indispensable.
I am, nonetheless, thrilled at the appointment of my hero, Muhammad Yunus, at the advanced age of 84, to be the head of the new interim government in Bangladesh.
Of course, there is a big difference between being an interim leader and having a more permanent position. Yunus, who promoted microcredit for poor women at the Grameen Bank, lifted millions of impoverished women out of poverty and received the Nobel Peace Prize in 2006. I wrote a book about him that came out in 2013.
Back to the U.S. Alongside limits for key government positions, I think we need far more flexibility and options than we have for most jobs. What most people still get wrong about aging is believing that you should be evaluated based on the number of years you have lived.
Instead, we need to be far more aware of the huge variance among people who are 60, 70, 80, and 90 in terms of their competence. We should be judging people on their capabilities rather than their numerical age.
What’s really too old? Our rules
Our rules and regulations about work evolved when people died far younger than they do today. The Social Security Administration set 65 as the age when you could start collecting your pension. At that time, life expectancy was 65; today it’s 78. Despite this fact, many of us still assume 65 is when most people should retire, even though many older people want to continue working. And some other people find working until 65 a real hardship.
In her book “Elderhood,” Louise Aronson made the case that we need a better balance of learning, work, and leisure time for everyone, all along the lifespan. I agree with her. As it is now, she explains, we delegate most of the learning opportunities to our youth, most of the work goes to adults 25–65, and older people who may live 40 years after retiring are expected to be on the sidelines and enjoy their leisure. Many adults, if not most, are stressed and overworked. Many of them work more than one job and have families to take care of, often including both children and their aging parents. It’s simply too much. Those over 65 are expected to be happy with their full-time leisure, but many of us older people love to work and want to contribute to the general welfare. We also enjoy learning.
Aronson believes that most youth would benefit from more work experiences, as well as more leisure time. Adults should work less and have more time for learning and leisure time with their families. And those over 65 need more options for part-time work and serious part-time learning to make their later years more satisfying and meaningful. This notion of flexibility and support for each age group is not just a pipe dream. Initiatives like the 32-hour workweek in the U.S. could be a great place to start.
My future
At 90, I am finding that I am living in the present moment more than ever before. Maybe it is because my future horizon is so much smaller. The average life expectancy in the U.S. for white women at 90 is another 4.88 years. With that in mind, I try from time to time to organize my files and papers so my sons will not be burdened when I die. When I get a stomachache or a headache, I am apt to think, “This is it.” But these are fleeting thoughts. Mostly, I find myself happily engaged in daily life even though I have lost my beloved husband, my partner, and many friends. I stay active. I serve on some interesting committees, and I am writing these columns. I am participating in the trial of a new AI health care product for monitoring elders who live alone.
I do find that I am choosing a somewhat quieter lifestyle. I am reading more. After years of adventuresome travel and work in developing countries, I am more content to stay home. My wonders today are walking in the gorgeous countryside, looking at the moon on a starry night, and being with my family and old friends.
My niece recently reminded me that I had once written about living my life as if I were going to live to 100. Now, at 90, I need to make that decision again. This mindset will allow me to worry even less about “what’s too old” for me in the future. If I believe I will live to 100, I won’t hesitate to make new friends, keep going to the dentist and buy new clothes. I will strive to be fully present in my own life.
