THE FACT OF THE MATTER
BY PAUL HOPKINS
Ingrid Bergman once said: “Getting old is like climbing a mountain; you get a little out of breath, but the view is much better.” The star of Casablanca died in 1982 at the age of 67, relatively young by today’s standards.
Today we – the fortunate ones, that is –are all living longer. The days of our lives being ‘nasty, brutish and short’ — as has been the case for most of human history — are in the past and if you are in your 50s, 60s or older , like me, and live in the ‘civilised’ world, well, you’ve never had it so good.
But is age just a number – as today’s thinking would have it? Perhaps … maybe. In my head I feel like I did when I was, say, 17.
Yes, a lot more years of learning, experiences, a life lived well; but in my head I am still that 17-year-old on the verge of adulthood, even though I passed the 70th mark a few years back.
Not long before that momentous birthday, I was at the front of a bus queue when four secondary schoolgirls lined up behind me, chatting away and giggling as was their wont. The bus pulled in and I, ever the gentleman, stood back to allow the young women get on before me. I gestured with a swing of my open palm. The girls didn’t budge. After a monetary stand-off I said to myself, Right, we could be here all day – so I got on the bus.
Then it dawned on me, these girls were showing good manners in allowing the ‘old fella’ on first.
Some days, you just can’t win.
The adage ‘age is just a number’ for some means that chronological age does not have to define our abilities, our mindset. It’s an expression increasingly used to challenge age-based stereotypes and to encourage us to live life to the fullest, regardless of age, by maintaining a positive outlook and staying active both mentally and physically.
The last census in 2022 showed there were in Ireland 761,000 aged 65 and over. That figure ie expected to top one million by 2050.
Meantime, while I may think my brain, my consciousness, is still as it was when I was 17, it is, as science shows us, just not so.
It has been widely found that the volume of the brain and/or its weight declines with age at a rate of around 5% a decade after age 40 – yes, 40! – with the actual rate of decline possibly increasing with age particularly over age 70. (Now, what did I come up the stairs this time for?).
According to my psychologist friend from Magherafelt, the manner in which this decline occurs is less clear. The shrinking of the grey matter is reported to stem from “neuronal cell death” but whether this is primarily responsible is not entirely clear. The rate of reduction in brain volume may increase with age, particularly over 70, but development and ageing, mapping structure to function and change because of ageing is a complex task, he says. I say, I could really do with a drink right now
All I know, I tell him, is that my brain and memory are still in great nick but act somewhat differently. Like having to mentally plan a forthcoming action, and being less spontaneous.
When you’re young, it’s hard to envisage getting old. Now, I am here, I hear that train a comin’ and its shrill whistle increasingly stops me in my tracks, momentarily frozen with the fear of, and for, the future. Dementia and such.
Today, people in their 70s seem, not necessarily young, just nicely mature. Hopefully, wise and empathetic. The 70s is the new 50s, they say. No, 70s is the 70s. With living longer sooner or later can come a failing ability to function – not quite there yet, thank you very much – and an increasing blip on society, on State pensions and on its young members in terms of care and cost in becoming that “child that is father to the man”.
My father, who lived until he was 80, used to say that life was “sweet no matter what”. He had good health until the end. But the acorn does not always fall that close to the tree and our lifestyles are polar opposites. I am still here though. Thankfully… so far so good, minor ailments notwithstanding. Like a good wine, I may be old but I am fine.
Meanwhile, I’m away to another funeral.
