Reflections of a local Octogenarian

On Growing Old by Helen Nute

To the octogenarians and nonagenarians of the Mt. Washington Valley: "Grow old along with me; the best is yet to be!"

Wouldn't you know that an ebullient young male wrote that? I wonder whether Robert Browning had changed his mind before he reached the age of 78 in 1889. At that time relatively few men in England and America reached that age. Anyway, I like Browning's sentiments in "Pippa Passes" much better: "God's in his heaven—all's right with the world," though I should express them rather differently.

What is actually in my mind at the moment is this: Why doesn't someone tell us the actual facts about old age before it is too late to be prepared for it? Of course, it is great fun to joke about going upstairs for one specific purpose and forgetting what it was; or about being unable to decide what day of the week yesterday was; or failing to recognize a good friend on the street. But just see whether you think it is funny when you are 85 or more.

When I celebrated the 50th anniversary of my graduation from Radcliffe College in 1919, my classmates and I thoroughly enjoyed singing a humorous song composed by a member of the class of 1918. It was written to the tune of "I Didn't Raise My Boy to be a Soldier," but it seemed that no one in 1969 was familiar with it. There were several stanzas and here are two of them:

"I can't remember what I went upstairs for, And end up finding something else to do. When I go down again the whys and wherefores Recur when places give me back the clue. So up I go again, repeating over the thing I want, and then the doorbell rings.

What I went up to find was probably my mind, Which I mislaid along the way since 'nineteen."

"I cannot find my glasses any more-ore, Unless with luck I find them on my face. Another problem just as much a bore-ore Is I cannot even find my glasses case. I make a list of things I must accomplish, And spend the day just looking for the list. Though I forget what's near, My memory is clear For all the songs we sang in nineteen-nineteen."

I think life might be less difficult for an octogenarian if there were less sentimentalizing about old age, and people were prepared for it. It happened that my seventies were the happiest decade of my life, and I was not prepared for what happened to me in my eighties. The simple facts about it are seldom divulged. For instance, I was never told that in my middle eighties I might be obliged to learn a new way of doing something I had done easily and automatically for aat least 80 years

At an early age, I had proudly mastered the procedure of buttoning or unbuttoning a blouse, sweater, or coat, and I had proceeded to do so automatically until I suddenly found in my middle eighties that I could no longer do it. It was rather difficult then to learn a new system, and I am quite sure life would have been a little easier for me if I had prepared for the changes in advance. There is nothing to be ashamed of because you have been able to survive longer than many other people.

Then, when it comes to the loss of memory, you will probably have a hard time indeed, and you will realize too late that you ought to have prepared yourself gradually for dealing with that problem. It will be hard work, and you may have quite a struggle, but you can win if you persevere and acknowledge that it is indeed a problem. It will take patience and indomitable perseverance to memorize the days of the week in their right order again, but you can do it if you really care.

You may find that your actual memory is very good, but that you have lost the ability to express what you know because you cannot remember the words needed. I repeat: If you really work at it, the words will come more easily. If you will devise practical methods for improving your memory, it will improve.

For instance, when I start for another part of the house and forget what I want to obtain there, I stand still and concentrate until I remember what I wanted to do. This device works better if consistently used.

Of course, life would be much easier for you if you would simply accept the fact that it was not God's plan to have people the same at 85 that they were at 70. You might even find that there are some very pleasant characteristics of old age. Forget that younger persons know so little about the life you are experiencing, and when they keep on asking, "How are you?" instead of saying something interesting or entertaining to you, just keep on saying, "Just fine!"

Editor's Note: Helen Nute wrote this at age 89. She was a North Conway native, former educator, and esteemed local historian. She graduated from Radcliffe College in 1919, and received her Masters degree from Harvard University in 1927. Helen Nute died on April 10, 1994, at the age of 96.