By Karen Galatz
The Matzo Chronicles
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RENO, Nevada — I’ve just celebrated my 70th birthday. This transition to a new decade is undoubtedly a milestone. You might wonder, do I have angst about aging? Well, a little. But mostly I’ve been celebrating the occasion and looking forward to the years ahead.
I got hearing aids in March and as I’m writing this column, I’m recuperating from bunion surgery. Ouch and oy vey! I’m still contemplating plastic surgery. However, I did opt out of cataract surgery, not because I don’t need it, but because I didn’t like the eye doctor! You might say we didn’t see eye to eye!
Yes, the signs are clear. Well, blurrrrry. I am advancing in years.
Still, I am comforted by our religion which hails 70 years as a significant number representing completeness and wisdom. According to the Sages, one who reaches 70 has lived a “fullness [of years]” (Pirkei Avot 5:21).
In Judaism, 70 represents the nations of the world, the founding members of the children of Israel, and the number of the authoritative judicial body of Israel.
So, if the number 70 is good for the Torah and the people of Israel, this “old” me is good with it as well.
There was a time, not long ago, I could not have said this. I wasn’t happy. I spent a lot of time — too much time — yearning for the past, missing loved ones who had died. It was as if every day there was a yahrzeit candle burning a hole in my heart and soul. I’m not 100 percent sure how I climbed out of this mournful state, but thankfully I did. Two activities clearly played a big role.
The first — rigorous exercise. I’ve become a regular gym rat, working with a bulked-up, tattoo-ed-to-the-max, fear-inspiring trainer named Jesse. I now pump iron like Arnold Schwarzenegger! Well, more like Arnold if he had a bad back, osteopenia, and lifted laughably tiny weights!
Second, I’m working as a writing coach at the local university’s journalism school. I sincerely believe the enthusiasm, passion, and curiosity of the students was infectious and recharged my optimism battery like only young people can!
So, happily, I’ve rebounded and have a renewed “zest” for living. In fact, I think I’m zestier than ever!
I recently returned from a New York City ten-show marathon. Even for theater-a-holic me, that’s a new record! And it wasn’t just a non-stop show-a-thon. My friend of 51 years (now that’s another big number) Laura S. and I walked our (bad) feet off — like in the old days at Barnard College, traipsing up Madison Avenue and along the East River on a picture-perfect sunny day.
Meanwhile, my husband and I have been on a different marathon, logging more travel miles in one season than ever before. We spent three weeks in Europe and blitzed off to freezing Alaska and Canada to see the Aurora Borealis. (Who knew we could have stayed home and seen it from the comfort of our warm backyard a few months later?)
At home, I’m devouring books at record speed and “devouring” is the right word. You’d think they were chocolates. My appetite for reading is insatiable. There’s just so much to learn! Again, the sages say 70 represents an age of wisdom. I’m definitely not “wise,” but I’m still working hard on acquiring knowledge and insights.
And when that day comes that my time is up, I want the cause of death to be listed as SUAAOBFAAN (smothered under an avalanche of books from an adjacent nightstand).
Speaking of books, I read former President Jimmy Carter’s The Virtues of Aging. Written in 1998, it is a sweet book, filled with the gentle folksy wisdom you’d expect from the former president.
Speaking for himself and former First Lady Rosalynn Carter, he wrote:
“There is no doubt that we now cherish each day more than when we were younger. Our primary purpose in our golden years is not just to stay alive as long as we can, but to savor every opportunity for pleasure, excitement, adventure, and fulfillment.”
These words seem especially poignant with the First Lady’s passing and the President’s advanced age and precarious health.
Yet, the thought behind those words resonated — especially the point about fulfillment. My husband and I both have no retirement plans. Working is a defining part of our identities. I guess we’re emulating my parents and oldest brother who all worked and engaged in the community till the day they died.
There’s a saying in the West about dying with your “our boots on.” That’s our plan, although in my case it’s more likely to be a pair of sneakers or orthopedic sandals!
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You can read more of Karen’s work at Muddling through Middle Age or contact her at karen@muddling.me.