Joyce Carol Oates said it better than I ever could:

“We start losing people. That’s the human experience, and you suddenly realize that the human experience is going to be your experience. When that starts to happen to you, it is quite stunning.”

Some of us are lucky enough to reach a stage in life when we are suddenly, surprisingly the older generation. (It may not feel lucky in the moment.) For some it comes earlier than for others, but it starts with the realization that your friends’ parents, your parents’ friends, or your own parents are passing on.

photo: my mother-in-law and mother

Or you become the caretaker. It’s a stark moment when you become an orphan. You may still have surviving aunts and uncles; you may or may not have children, nieces, or nephews; but to some degree, you ARE the older generation.

I was 43 when it became clear my mom had Alzheimer’s, 44 when I unexpectedly lost my father, 51 when mom’s journey ended. Only my stepmother remains. My in-laws are gone. I have children, siblings, nieces and nephews, great-nieces and nephews. I am part of the older generation within my family. I don’t feel old, at least in my head. My body tells another story. At 63, it’s tough to contemplate what the years ahead will hold. Will I be cursed by the dementia or aneurysm of my parents? Have I accomplished what I wanted to? But worrying about those things is not the least bit useful.

The lucky part is the joys are many.

My husband and I have been married nearly 34 years. It’s more like coffee and Oreos than champagne and roses, and I mean that in the best way. (If you know me, you know.) We’ve weathered the storms and embraced the sunny skies - with sunscreen, of course.

For me, I love not having to go to work every day. (It took a lot of long hard days and saving our pennies to make that so.) We still like to take advantage of the $6 movies on Tuesdays and AARP discounts.

My children make me proud, both with the successes they’ve achieved but also with who they are. They are readers, and we share books. They listen to the music of my teens and college years: Fleetwood Mac, Elton John, Jim Croce. They’re funny. They have a strong work ethic, and it’s rewarding to watch them grow in their careers. They like each other. Of course, I love them, but I also like them.

I have older friends who inspire me and younger friends who give me hope. I have time for coffee dates and really getting to know people. I have time to give back.

Do I have wisdom, earned or otherwise? Maybe a little:

  • Don’t let your job define you. Careers can be wonderful, and you may achieve great success, however you define success. When it’s over, it’s over. But it’s not who you are.
  • Live your dreams when you can, because health or other circumstances might prevent you from doing so later. Embrace the opportunities, whether travel, school, pickleball, or activism.
  • Make sure your parents are prepared, legally and financially, before you lose them. (If they’re not, you can become overwhelmed by the responsibilities thrust upon you. Thankfully, that was not my situation.) Make sure you are prepared. Make your wishes known.
  • Make friends of all ages. Learn from them and mentor them, whether younger or older. Borrow their grandchildren (h/t Amy) if you need to. Reconnect with former colleagues when you can. You may be surprised what you learn.
  • Read. Open yourself to other perspectives, cultures, lives.

Most of all: be kind, be present, and enjoy the moment. You’re one of the lucky ones, no matter your age.