Fortunately, as my children and younger friends point out, I am in pretty good shape for the shape that I am in. I can still drive and I handle my own affairs. I do my own shopping . . . . of course, I prefer to do it more in person than online as I get to enter-act with real people. I have found people in general and especially with young folks showing me deference more than say ten years ago. So don’t misunderstand what I am about to say. For some of us, right now at least, we are in pretty good shape for the shape we are in” and right now that by itself says “life is good”.
I readily admit that there is a certain level of peace that comes from having your own place, your own routine and some quiet time. I know there is for me. However, before you start jumping up and down with joy and running the risk of breaking something you need to understand that living alone in your 80s is not always what people imagine. Like being young, there are advantages, disadvantages, rewards and dangers.
But even with all those advantages the odds are at 80 years and beyond you're going to spend a great deal of whatever time you have left, alone. It is that time in our life span that we begin to notice that many of our friends if not in fact most of our friends have stepped off into eternity or have become debilitated in some form or another.
In our four score and more years we have learned that life can change in the twinkling of an eye. We know because we have seen it happen to our friends. Yesterday I played a round of golf with a friend I’d known since childhood and now I am getting ready to attend their memorial service. Yesterday a few of us walked a mile at the mall and then this morning one of us awakened and nothing on our left side is working and the phone is across the room.
As I have just said, with relatively good health, living alone into your 80's age can and is a blessing from God. However, as I have pointed out, living to 80 and beyond can and does present you with some unique challenges. Many of those challenges are obvious . . . they are physical and financial in nature and bring their own kinds of stress.
But there is a stress that comes with longevity that can be a grinder for both healthy and not so healthy and that physical, mental and financial circumstances can exacerbate.
I am speaking of aloneness and the loneliness that too often accompanies being alone. Loneliness can, and I suspect will, sneak up on you when you least expect it. I can almost guarantee you that most days will seem longer than when you were younger. There will also be nights when it seems morning will never come.
The fact that many of our friends, if not in fact most of our friends, have stepped off into eternity and we have become or may may become the “last one still standing.” I have a friend who once remarked that their social life now consisted of onetime events . . . . namely attending the memorial services for their shrinking number of friends.
I really became aware of this when my wife died. It has been five years since she went to be with the Lord Jesus, and I have not adjusted to the aloneness of living alone. At least when she first left my friends were there but now, even they are as one fellow said, “dropping like flies”. I can promise you that there will be days when the silence will seem louder than the din of noise.
When our children were young, we used to long for a little peace and quiet and now that quietness all too often is deafening. You wake up to a house that is too still . . . . There are no footsteps and no voices to be heard. Just the humming of the refrigerator and the ticking of the clock . . . . No voices!
You turn on the TV or radio for company and just to hearing another human voice. Your phone can go days without an incoming call, and the mailbox brings only bills and advertisements. Even the morning cup of “Joe” is less than satisfying. I will not even mention how just getting up and down is a chore. I am here to tell you that loneliness often shows up in those quiet moments. You feel it when setting the table for one or when looking out the window too long. This lack of connection can cause your heart to hurt.
Daily tasks can one the one hand keep you busy and turn your thoughts from your aloneness. But those same daily tasks can wear you down. When you live alone in your 80s, even simple chores can feel like mountains. What used to take ten minutes now takes thirty. Some days, it feels like everything takes more energy than you have to give.
I have days when just getting out of bed is a challenge. Stiff joints and sore muscles do not always cooperate in the morning. I make wonderful breakfasts or, at least so I have been told. But now, it takes me longer and a drop stuff with more frequently. Susan used to complain that my stride was too long and I walked too fast . . . . Now I walk deliberately and hope I don’t trip over anything or even nothing.
Now the laundry piles up faster than I remembered and the laundry basket is heavier than I recall. Sometimes I ask myself, “How in the world did Susan carry this thing to the washroom.” Bending over to pick up clothes changing and opening a stubborn jar can turn into exhausting tasks. I find myself saying about more and more things, “It can wait until tomorrow.” Truth is, when we live alone, it is easy for us to feel like our time does not matter. No one is there to see what you do anyway so why worry about. I know I sometime feel guilty for leaving dishes in the sink. Or frustrated because I can’t get the dust off of the ceiling fan blades. We must simply do what we can do.
I suppose it boils down to a search for significance in our old age. We want what we do to have . . . . meaning beyond ourselves. Stepping out of my leadership role after 50 years was the hardest transition I have had to make other than losing Susan. She was my עֵזֶר כְּנֶגְדּוֹ . . . . the woman God created as my perfect match. I’m not sure you ever get used to not having the most significant person in your life around after more than 60 years. We just adjust as best we can but no matter how much we try we still miss their aroundness.
So, what is one to do. Well, what you don’t do is succumb to the loneliness. Be proactive . . . . don’t wait on anyone to come to you and do not assume about your grief and aloneness “That this too shall pass.” I’m in my sixth year and it neither have happened yet. Here are some things and places to start.
Stop whining because you phone still isn’t ringing. If your phone isn’t ringing, may I suggest you make their phones ring. A simple phone call to an old friend. Don’t wait for them to call . . . take the initiative. I have a friend who I call regularly even though they rarely call me or even return my calls. Truth is that we do not need constant chain of phone calls, but we do need a human voice. Sometimes I just call to listen to their voice mail pre-recorded message, turn your radio on for company. The quiet can make each day seem uncomfortably long and make each day feel like a copy of the one before.
Try speaking with the clerk or other customers at the grocery store. I try and go to the grocery store once a week whether or not I need to buy anything. I have learned that there are people there who need what I am able to give. A listening and sympathetic ear.
I have returned to the art of letter and note writing. I love the anticipation of getting something in my mailbox beside a bill, Medicare plan promotion or other advertisements. I have to confess that I write far more letters than I get a letter in return. If you can’t write letters, then put a nlote in a card. I have found letters less expensive than cards. Just a heads up on that.
You can still have a meaningful and significant life. Purpose does not simply vanish but it does change based upon our capabilities and willingness to embrace the change and do what we can do. It may in fact become quieter, more personal as well as more meaningful to you and helpful to others than before you can imagine right now. We “Oldies” simply need to start finding value in small things others overlook.
Don’t forget about church. It is a great place to stay in the know and interact with people. First and foremost, I attend church. This gives me at least one day a week where I interact with other people. Don’t use web cast of your church’s service keep you away from the fellowship of the saints.
I interact on social media with people I have met over the years. This includes friends from my school days and especially my high school graduating class. People who I have worked with as pastor of five churches over 50 years are high on that list on social media. Add to that he folks around the world with whom I have ministered with and to. I maintain a fairly large social media presence. (Feel free to join me on Facebook)
I have, as mentioned earlier, recommitted myself to letter writing. If it worked for Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning, it might just work for you.
I have purchased a few bird feeders and sack of birdseed. Feeding the birds each morning gives me pleasure. I figure if God takes care of the sparrows, then so can I. I also grow plants. Feeding the birds, chasing off the squirrels and caring for my plants allows me to care for something alive. Watering the plants becomes a promise to care for something alive.
I write. I write down my memories and my thoughts on various subjects. Think about the wisdom you and I carry. Our stories, lessons, and patience are worth more than most people realize. I share these on both my personal blog and on Facebook.
I haven’t done this one, but it is something I toss around in my mind. Write letters to grandchildren. You can share recipes or advice that only comes from experience. You might even write a letter and seal it in an envelope addressed to them. Ask whoever is going to handle your estate to distribute them for you after you have died. to them for after you die and put it with the things your family will treasure
Remember, purpose does not have to be bold, loud or even seen. It can be framed in quiet acts of care, creativity, and choice. You and I are still part of the world. Living alone in your 80s is not always easy. Some days feel too quiet, and others feel too heavy. But we must remember that our time has always had value and maybe even greater value now that we have outlived the life expectancy charts. Our presence still matters. And your life can still hold beauty, even in its quietest moments.
You are not forgotten. You are not invisible. You are still here, still strong, and still capable of building on the life you started all those many years ago. You’re here and that means God has not quit on you so don’t you quit on you. If all else fails . . . give me a call . . . . let talk.
