What Is the Ultimate Advantage of Being an Old Person?
I've been asking a lot of questions about this as I face difficult news.

Decades ago, did you ever look at your parents and think, “Wow, I’m never going to be an old person like that”? Naively, I did.
One of my mom’s “old person” behaviors was her daily review of the obituaries published in my hometown newspaper.
She’d lived in that fairly small town for all of her adult life, so as she aged into her 60s, 70s and beyond, there was a good chance she’d read a name in the obits of someone she knew at least a few times a week.
I always thought this was a bit macabre, her daily routine of scouring the small newsprint for familiar names. I’d wonder, “Is she hoping she finds someone she knows? Does she get some small comfort in finding out someone her age or younger has died but she’s still here?”
It was neither of those reasons. In her non-technology world, that’s how she knew what family to reach out to by sympathy card or funeral home visit. And providing comfort to people in difficult times was something she felt strongly about doing.
As I continue along in my 60s, I can ignore the obits in the newspaper, but I can’t hide from the reality of the news they share.
Now, it is technology that usually delivers the sad stories to me that someone who was once a classmate, used to be a co-worker, is the spouse of a friend, or even a friend I’m still in touch with now, has died.
The news now finds me rather than me having to hunt it down- it comes at me via text or a Facebook post. And the notifications are happening far more often with each passing year.
Reeling in the Years
When I learn that the parents of people I know have passed away, I’m filled with sympathy and compassion (since it’s happened to me) for the family. But that’s somehow expected. It’s the natural order of life and death.
But more often now it’s people my age, my generation, that have died. They are still in their prime!
Last week, in the group text chat of my “50-year friends” came the news that the wife of one of our high school classmates had passed away after an extremely long, hard-fought battle with cancer.
Her husband had been keeping us informed periodically of her trips to the hospital and many other medical complications that were ravaging her body. We knew things weren’t going well but still, when you hear someone who’s been ill for so long dies, it’s hard. It hits on a lot of different emotions.
And earlier this month, my trusty high school class Facebook group tapped me on the shoulder to let me know a classmate had died following her own long battle with cancer. Honestly, I’d long forgotten about this woman who I once saw daily and shared laughs and secrets with.
But seeing her picture was like sticking the pencil in an old cassette tape and rewinding back 45 years. In my mind, she was 18, full of joy, with the road of unlimited possibilities set out before her. Just like me.
Then her road ended right at the same time I consider mine to be continuing along the most scenic stretch of highway thus far.
Co-Mingling Grief and Gratitude
This relentless news of loss prompted some questions that came into my thoughts that have been with me since then.
“Why am I the one who gets to move forward in life while others are taken too soon?”
“How have I become one those lucky enough to have the exquisite advantage of aging another year?”
I don’t know the answer to those questions. But I’ve decided to ask myself something else for which I do have an answer that might interest you.
“If I complain about my age, how unfair is that to those who didn’t get the chance to grow older?”
I think about the amazing people I knew who did not see their 63rd birthday like I just did. They’ve missed children getting married, grandchildren being born, big milestone anniversaries with their spouse, and a lot of little things like sunsets and first days of spring.
Reflecting on this, I’ve been thinking about how much more I want to give of myself and my unique gifts to the world around me. I’m finally writing more and sharing this newsletter with sometimes more than 1,000 people each week- which I didn’t start to do until about six months ago.
How sad it would be had I not had the opportunity to get to this age where I can share all of this with you?
I think about the great fortune I have to be here and be healthy, and I want to give more back. Not just through money or volunteering to man a table, but in one-to-one actions that might be what someone needs just then.
Who can I reach out to who might need someone to just listen to them, or who do I know that just needs to hear how awesome I think they are?
What are the small things I can do that might ripple out to a stranger and improve their day?
These are questions I can answer with action. I feel like it’s a gift I can give in honor of each wonderful friend that didn’t get the opportunity to keep giving- like life’s relay race in which I’m grabbing their baton and going forward when they can’t run any longer.
I realize I’m lucky- what a huge advantage it is to grow old! I’m certain a lot of friends I’ve lost in the last decade would love to have my wrinkles, my achy hip, and my frustration over not being able to read menus in dark restaurants.
I’m going to start appreciating all of these annoyances more as the advantages of being an old person.
Thank you. I too have lost friends from high school, and work places who never made it into their mid sixties, a few not even into their thirties. I also lost my mum ten years ago this August. I miss her more than ever, especially as I cannot share my new granddaughter with her. Life goes on, and for all of us who are still here, well, let's be kind and make the most of each and every day. Be thankful for those creaky knees and the laughter lines ( I am not calling them wrinkles!). Appreciate the time with friends and family. Live a good healthy life.
You’ve got the right attitude!!