29 February

My Willa Cather Girl…When I’m Old. Where To Hide?

by Jon Katz

We had some friends over for dinner last night; we talked long into the night. At some point, our friend Ellen asked me, “so what is your plan when you get old?”

I said I was already old.

She said, “yes, but when you are getting slower..”

I said, “I’m already getting slower.”

She just looked at me oddly – I think she has more money than I have – and I felt I owed her a better answer.

“I said, look, I am learning to live in the present. The fear and the future hold little for me but regret, grievance, anger, and fear.”

I can’t do anything about the past, and if my work at the Mansion has taught me nothing else, it is that I can’t predict the future or tailor it to my wishes. There isn’t enough money in the world for that.

I could get squashed by a runaway truck any day, or have an airplane fall on my head, or  I might die of digital poisoning one day listening to the news.

Ever one of the older people I know will tell you that their “plan” for age turned out to be a kind of cruel joke. In our country, everyone is just one illness away from ruin, and very few of us can save up the money or have the “plan” we are told we need to die comfortably in the United States.

They can keep us alive for a long time, but they can’t keep us in a meaningful life.

I have two chronic diseases, diabetes, and heart disease; the actuaries say I’m likely to go when my heart goes. There are worse ways to go. At this point, I will never make enough money to control the way I die in America, unless I stop eating, which is an excellent way to go, from what I hear.

I love my life and appreciate it, that will have to do for now. I’ve got my wills and DNR orders all set.

More than me, I worry about Maria when I die. Will she be okay?

Can she afford the farm? Take care of it by herself? Will she keep her life as an artist? Will I leave her with a giant mess?

Maria is an amazing person – creative, strong, smart, gifted. I’d bet she will have another chapter, and then another. If she wants to partner up again, she will. If not, she won’t.  She will do what she needs to do, she is not into whining and hand wringing.

And how much of this is my business or concern?

We have kept our faith with one another, shared our broken pieces, and helped one another heal. We never need to make any apologies to the other. I owe Maria more than I could ever repay, and I hope she feels the same way.

I am not rich, and that is perhaps the greatest gift ever given to me, next to finding someone to love and to love me.

Maria will never give up her life as an artist; it is woven into her soul and her marrow. She is more than tough enough and more than talented enough.

She has no time for my fearful wanderings in the night. “I can take care of myself,” she says, rolling her eyes, and going back to sleep.

Talk about living in the present! I am old enough, I don’t need to go down the what-about-tomorrow road now, and I find my life gets better, more productive, and more meaningful as I age.

When my friend asked me about my plan for getting older, I almost immediately put it onto Maria and off of me. But my friend wasn’t asking about Maria.  And I can’t go there to hide.

I’m learning that it’s inevitable to worry about these things when you love someone, but also that it can be patronizing, even sexist, to suggest that someone like Maria can’t take care of herself just because I die.

We support one another, but it would be delusional and arrogant to ever think she is successful or creative because of me, or that she can’t be successful and innovative without me. I respect life; we all have to stand on our own two feet and create our destiny.

I’ve lived with Maria for a decade, and I can tell you with a clear head and full heart that she can take care of herself.

My friend’s question bothered me, though, it kept me up for a while.

I suppose my psychological Achilles Heel is thinking about Maria’s life after I die.

I grew up in a middle-class culture where strong women were crushed, and men were expected to make sure their families were secure if and when they died. These old skins are sometimes hard to shed.

I recognize this as a wasteful and unhealthy neurosis. I am working on letting go of it.

I know better than to worry about things I can’t control. I know better than to underestimate my Willa Cather girl, I’ve seen her move through one painful and difficult obstacle after another. She makes beautiful quilts, climbs trees, crawls on rooftops, hauls hay, carries furniture up and downstairs, paints rooms and walls.

She has made it through every single one of the tough obstacles that face any artist.

So my “plan” for getting older is to take advantage of now, to live every day fully and honestly and meaningfully and to be grateful for every moment we have together.

I never once imagined I would be so lucky, and I won’t spoil or diminish it by lurching backward and forwards out of my real life.

If my friend asks me again what my “plan” is for being older, I’m ready: My plan is to die one day.

13 Comments

  1. You’ve taken a lot of photos of Maria but this one just might be my favorite. The colorful hat, the twinkle in her eyes and that big grin … she looks so happy. I think she said once that it gave her pleasure to provide sustenance for the animals in her care. I don’t know if hauling hay is the source of her joy but, regardless, this one would go on my desk or office wall. ?

  2. John, this entry is PERFECT! I’m just now learning these things, and really appreciate how you put my thoughts and feelings into words here. I retire next week after working for over 50 years. I couldn’t be more happy and looking forward to retirement when I finally get to be ME, fully and completely, not having to “play nice, play professional, squelch my personality, my thoughts and ideas”. I’m finally going to be FREE! to live each and every day as ME! Having survived a brain tumor 4 years ago, I rebuilt my health and am better now than before, I have learned each day is a gift. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring – might be dropped on my knees for all I know – don’t care. I have TODAY! YEAH! And that is enough!!! Thank you for making me feel like I am not alone in these thoughts and feelings.

  3. As John Lennon said, ‘Life is what happens when you’re busy making plans.’ When my husband of nearly 25 years suddenly went in search of the meaning of life (or some such bullshit), I was devastated and bitter for a very long time. We had plans to travel and build a little log cabin in the woods to call home when we became road weary. None of that came to fruition. He remarried right away. They have a lovely home near the ocean and two comfortable pensions. Since I stayed home and raised our kids for 18 years, I had to be trained to earn a living and did so for the next 26 years. Finally, I followed a new dream and became an author and journalist. LIFE. I’m happy with where the unknown path led, but who knows what tomorrow will bring? I know I have no say in it and I’m ok with that.

  4. I hear ya, John.
    What is it with that question, “so what is your plan when you get old?” My dad’s cousin, a contemporary of my then-85-year-old mom, asked her the same question. At that time we lived in a beautiful huge 4-bedroom apartment on the 19th floor overlooking the Toronto skyline, some 10 miles to the southeast, four of us sharing the rent. My mom looked at my dad’s cousin and his wife as if they were crazy and answered the question. “Well,” she said, “right here is exactly my plan: I have my own private suite with two huge walk-in closets, huge bathroom that accommodates my walker, living area with comfortable couches and chairs, desk, and a separate area for my bed. What more would I ever want? The three girls (we daughters) live here with me, they drive me anywhere I have to go, they cook for me, we have a cleaning lady come once a week, they love me and I join them for meals or, if I am unwell, they bring my meals to me in my suite, no stairs to contend with, my every need is looked after, laundry done, etc. What more could I possibly want?”
    The cousin and his wife were flabbergasted! I guess they didn’t have such a relationship with any of their children, or they did not dream of “imposing” on them even if they did. Not sure what the reason was.
    Our mom stayed in the apartment with us until the day she died quietly and quickly at age 89. This is exactly what she wanted: no 911 calls to police, ambulance, EMTs, just to pass away peacefully in her own bed. She was lucky and it occurred exactly the way she hoped. She had a good life, resigned herself to a fairly quiet existence with her three daughters after our dad passed away and it worked out for her, God bless her. I guess everyone is not as fortunate. Plus, it is not something you can really “plan” for unless you have buckets and buckets of money and want to live out the rest of your life in a retirement home setting where maybe your basic needs are met, but the “belonging” and love are usually not. I think our mom had the right idea.

  5. Jon, I wish that you could teach me how to live in the present. I am a worrier, my husband is 14years older than me and we have been married for 44years. I can’t imagine life without him. He has major health problems, I need to find peace somehow though. Thank you for your blog and sharing your favorite poet’s and authors, it helps.

    1. Thanks for the message, Marsha, I don’t think I can teach it, but I am living it. It’s a hard thing, Marsha, from what I have seen. All I can tell you is that everyone I know who has been through it has come out the other side and is living their lives…You just have to believe there’s light at the end…Living in the present doesn’t mean you won’t know loss or pain, it just means focus on today, not the past or the future..

    1. Susie, thanks, I’ve learn to only take portraits of people I love or like very much..they always come out well..

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