Mary McHugh - How Not to Act Like a Little Old Lady

HOW NOT TO ACT LIKE A LITTLE OLD LADY

Mary McHugh

MAGNI

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Copyright 2010 by Mary McHugh

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ISBN: 978-1-882330-85-0

Manufactured in the United States of America

TABLE OF CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

How the heck did I get to be this old? Just a minute ago I was living in New York, working for a psychologist in a management consultant firm, living in an apartment on 72nd Street off Central Park West with three other girls (we were girls then), drinking bourbon and looking for a husband.

Now all of a sudden, Im 80 (theres no use pretending that isnt old), married to the same man for 55 years, Skyping my daughter and three grandsons who live on an island off Seattle while Im here in New Jersey in a townhouse condo, writing books and recording for the blind once a week in New York City.

As long as there was a 7 before my age, it didnt seem so old. Even 79. But then last December I was 80 and I was suddenly struck by the idea that I didnt have a very long future. As I celebrated my birthday on Mercer Island with my daughter, son-in-law and grandsons, I realized that I am having a pretty good life anyway. Its full of adventures, laughter, friends, tap dancing, labyrinths, carousels and my chocolate and wine diet. So I thought Id write down some of the things Ive learned about how to survive from 50 to my age and how its really not all that bad, except for a few aches and pains, cat scans, and what Eckhart Tolle calls the pain body those bad memories that sneak up on you and try to make you feel miserable.

Perhaps the hardest part of being this age is other peoples set assumptions about what an 80-year-old can do and cant do. Mostly cant. When I tell someone Im 80, a sea change goes on behind their eyes. Their brains scramble around trying to figure out how a woman who can write books and tap dance at the same time could be that old. Im trying to break through that set-in-stone prejudice to convince the rest of the world that we are only 80 in the number of years weve lived not in the way we act, think, walk, dance, sing, twitter or IM.

And I just read something really encouraging in a book called When Youre Falling, Dive, by Mark Matousek: We dont have a fixed number of brain cells that diminish over time our bodies produce 100,000 new brain cells every day until we die. And here I was worrying that all those brain cells being destroyed by a couple of glasses of wine every night at dinner were gone forever. Cheers!

Along the way, Ive found some really good books that helped me a lot. Ive met people whove held me up through the death of my youngest daughter. I wrote a book about growing up with my brother who had cerebral palsy and what is now called developmental delay but doesnt begin to describe what we used to call mental retardation. I married a man who is brilliant, a lawyer, always there when I need him, a man who reads ten books a week, loves to travel and writes me poems on my birthday. Especially my 80th birthday when I needed a poem more than any other time.

Maybe youd like to hear how I got this far and lived to write a book about it. Im taking notes this year so I can tell you how to make your own adventures, how to ward off those pain body moments, how to reach out instead of withdrawing in. I know its not all fun and games. Listen, theres nothing worse than losing an old and precious friend. Its terrible watching someone youve loved for 55 years begin to slow down, forget some words, need a hearing aid. And I shrank from 5 feet 2 inches tall to 4 feet 11 inches short. I cant reach anything on the top shelf at the supermarket anymore. Heck, I cant reach anything on the top shelf in my kitchen. But I can do my impression of bacon frying and still get up off the floor afterward. I can tap dance on YouTube and get favorable comments about my legs from perverts all over the world. I can walk labyrinths and find a kind of peace and quietness of mind as I wind slowly around the circular path to the center of serenity. I still ride merry-go-rounds wherever I find them. And I try every diet known to womankind, always gaining the 10 pounds back again.

According to the 2000 census there are more than 13 million of us over 80 in this country. You may not be 80 yet, but all you baby boomers my own daughter included are getting there. You have no idea how fast the time goes between your 50s and your 80s. I thought you might like to know what lies in store for you and some things you can do now to ease on down the road.

One of my favorite columnists, Gail Collins of The New York Times, wrote the other day: Since it appears that nobody is ever going to be able to afford to retire, were moving into an era in which having your car fixed or your tonsils removed by a 75-year-old will need to seem normal So its better if we readjust our thinking and start regarding everybody as 20 years younger than the calendar suggests.

From now on, Im thinking of myself as 60. Thats a lot better. And think how young you are at 60!

Anyway, I have lots to tell you, web sites to send you to, tweets, blogs, and friendly Facebooks to take you to. Leap and the net will appear!

First let me tell you how not to be at 80.

CHAPTER 1:

HOW NOT TO ACT LIKE A LITTLE OLD LADY OR A CROTCHETY OLD MAN

Its o.k. to be little most of us are shorter than we were in high school. I figure Ill be about the height of my coffee table by the time Im 90. And its o.k. to be heading toward old these days I think of 98 and a half as old. But its not o.k. to act like a Little Old Lady. We should probably start looking for the warning signs of Little Old Ladyhood once we hit 50.

Little old ladies have certain characteristics I dont want, and if I start to get any of them, my daughter has promised to shoot me. Dont worry if you recognize yourself in some of these traits. As long as you have only 95 percent of them, youre fine. But if you see yourself in 100 percent of them, you might want to re-think.

First of all, little old ladies tell long, boring, pointless stories embellished with the most minute detail. You have to sit there and look interested while the LOL tells you about the time she got in the car to go to the bank and she had to get there before three oclock when the banks closed but her car wouldnt start so she had to go back in the house and call the - - - - Oh I cant even stand to finish this story. You have to keep it short and sweet in this time of attention spans the length of a gnats wing.

Second, LOLs cackle. Somewhere around 40 or 50 they lose that silvery, feminine laugh that delights mens hearts, and they start to sound like a hen. I dont know what causes it, but I wish theyd stop. A smile will do. If something is really funny - and its getting harder and harder to find something really funny - then laugh, dont cackle.

Third, LOLs have tightly curled, scrunched-up hair. Why do they keep wearing their hair like that? I once dreamed that I was at an elegant dinner party and I was talking animatedly to the person next to me, when I noticed the woman across from me looking at me and I heard her say to her dinner companion, I wonder what war that hairdo is from. Then I realized you can tell what war a person lived through by her hair. WWII was pageboys, headbands, pin curls, and pompadours with lots of bobbie pins. The Vietnam War was long straight hair and no make-up. And you see women in their 50s who still havent cut their hair short or put on any make-up. The Iraq war seems to be straight blond hair hanging limply on either side of the face.