Opinion/Gutterman: At 80, much is still possible
Leslie Y. Gutterman is rabbi emeritus of Temple Beth-El in Providence.
Over the years, I’ve written a column marking a milestone birthday. The first, when I was 30. I felt I had all the time in the world even though I was already the “senior” rabbi at Temple Beth-El. Today my inner odometer turns 80. I can no longer admit to mid-life.
The Psalmist dreamed of four score “by reason of strength.” Now it may be attributed to good drugs and improved surgical techniques, or just good luck.
Garrison Keillor, two months older than I, was right when he said that “The first step to old age is gratitude.” Norman Lear, who recently celebrated his 100th birthday, exclaimed, “I wake up every morning grateful to be alive.” I took for granted being 30. Now I offer thanksgiving for every new year.
More opinion/Gutterman: Needing, and needing to be, the angels in our lives
Eighty is a time for the nostalgia Judith Viorst expresses in verse:
Some memories are pleasant; others evoke regret. There were words spoken too hastily, and deserved support withheld. There were duties neglected, sins of omission and commission. There are deep sorrows that abide. (I buried two cherished wives.)
The older we become, the more likely to experience loss. David Gergen opines, “I just turned 80, and I can tell you, you lose a step, you’re not as sharp.” I can relate to the elderly forgetful woman who kissed her cat goodnight and put her husband out. Many a senior is haunted by the fear of becoming irrelevant and no longer needed.
So, it is noteworthy that older people have reported higher satisfaction and well-being, less anxiety, depression and stress, according to a study from the Center on Healthy Aging published in the Journal of Clinical Psychiatry. Perhaps, it is because when one experiences both sides of life, we are more realistic and no longer distracted by illusions.
More opinion/Gutterman: Wise words and memories that anchor us
To quote Judith Viorst again: “In facing the fact that I’ll never write 'Dante’s Inferno' or paint a Picasso or transplant a kidney, nor will I ever run Israel or Harvard … and even if I win prizes and praise, I must still face the fact that they’ll never be able to say, ‘And she did it so young.’”
There is hard-won, deepened wisdom that comes with age. As Joni Mitchell sang in Newport this past summer, “Something’s lost, but something’s gained in living every day.” There is a renewed appreciation for what’s truly important: honor, more than honors; caring for people, more than possessions; the dimensions of a home, more than the details of a house; a faith that responds in a life of service.
At 80, I still look forward to growing in mind and heart. Norman Lear’s favorite word is “next.” Elders can weave new patterns of interests and relationships and affirm the joys of living. It is never too late for less resentment and more compassion. Much is still possible.
As a poet asserts, “Though I may be over the hill, still I think I can and I will. I’ve forgotten just what I can and I will, but this remains a goal of mine still.”
So on this milestone birthday, I celebrate with an old Hebrew toast — L’Chaim, to life.
This article originally appeared on The Providence Journal: Reflection on turning 80 years old: Much is still possible
