As I write this post I’m in New Jersey, preparing for my Mother’s funeral.  After many years battling Progressive Supranuclear Palsy, she very recently passed away. Fortunately my prayers of late were answered and she died peacefully in her sleep. It is a mix of feelings, as anyone can imagine:  the sadness when I think that I will never again kiss my mother good night, but relief in thinking she will no longer decline. But the one surprise I truly feel is how much it means to me now the relatively short time I spent being her caregiver.  What came about because of misfortune was truly a blessing in disguise.

Shortly after my mother moved to CA permanently, I was laid off from my job when our clinic closed its doors.  I felt lost and that my life was out of control. But then, as I began to put my professional life together with a patchwork of part time jobs, I decided to include a few shifts a week as her caregiver.  For six months, until I was offered something full time, I fed my mother, dressed her, took her shopping, and did her morning and bedtime routine. As clearly I am not a trained professional, it was hard for me.  But I know it must have been even harder for my Mom. I did most things wrong, especially anything involving transferring her and balancing her weight.

But what I think about now that I am so grateful for is the intimacy it provided us.  When you care for someone, even inefficiently, there is a lot of touching. And there is also a lot of vulnerability and a need for trust that is a big responsibility.  Thank God my mother had a great sense of humor and could laugh off most of my errors, overgrinding her meatloaf and overfilling her small mouth. But I was by far the worst at getting her into bed.  In fact, more than a few times I managed to swing her well enough across the bed, but with too much force that I landed smack on top of her. Boy did we laugh.

And that is what makes me smile now and gets the tears flowing.  Although anyone else would have fired me, in fear for their life, my mother loved every minute of it.  And that is what I will miss most about my mother. No one else but your mother thinks your scribbles are art, your mess of words poetry, or the cake you try to bake her a culinary masterpiece.  No one but your mother remembers with such joy when made your first Halloween costume, went on your first date, or walked to the podium to get your diploma. There is love, but now that I am one and no longer have a living one, I absolutely understand there is no purer love than a Mother’s love. 

I love you and miss you already, Mom.  Your memory will always be a blessing.

As I’ve entered my fifties, I notice I’m worrying less and appreciating things quite a bit more. Concern about aging, however, has become a new anxiety, as the stereotypes and social conventions of being “over the hill” creep in.  Will I be lonely, grumpy, or even bitter? Will I feel like a burden and long for my younger days? So I was quite relieved to find a book called The Happiness Curve, which gives me a scholarly foundation of hope that my increasing contentment will most likely be a continuing trajectory, in contrast to my fears of decline.

Author Jonathan Rauch, a Brookings Institute senior fellow and Atlantic contributing editor, reviews a large number of multi-country, big data studies on happiness conducted over the course of the last few decades.  The results, coming from authors in a range of disciplines, including economics, psychology, biology and epidemiology, consistently shows that life satisfaction when graphed across the age span is a U-shape, with contentment high in the 20’s, plunging at mid-life, and rising again after 50.  Most coincidentally, the graph of this phenomena looks like a rye smile. In our youth oriented culture, this comes as a bit of a surprise, and I must admit, a bit of a relief! The notion of a mid-life crisis leading to a slowly diminishing sense of vitality and value is just a myth. Rather than a crisis, most people experience a natural shift away from competitiveness and achievement (which creates the stress of comparing ourselves negatively to others) to more of a relational and compassionate mentality that enables us to feel more connected with the world.  We simply feel happier with who we are and what we have accomplished.

Interestingly, there seems to be a biological component to it.  The same curve appears to be true for apes, according to a fairly large (or what I think is large for an obscure topic of rating the moods of apes as they age) number of biologists and comparative psychologists.  One theory is that while individuals are capable of procreating, it is best for the survival of the species if they are driven and competitive to achieve more status. Once past the age of procreation, it benefits society if older individuals of a group are interested in caretaking and supporting others.

The most interesting part of the book for me is Rauch’s proposal that on a societal level our outdated social conventions need to be updated to reflect the insights and realities of our new understanding of aging.  As people are living longer, there appears to be a new stage of life emerging. Much like when young people began to need longer schooling and more support in becoming an adult in a complex industrial society, the concept of adolescence emerged (with all of the accompanying social supports, such as college, internships, and mentoring), a new stage is also developing that needs attending to.  In fact, it is already becoming noticed, and referred to as Encore Adulthood. Rauch posits that society is starting to respond to the needs and potential of the people in this life stage and develop structures to support them. The AARP in fact has shifted its services to offering “life re-imagined” and career services rather than just renting RVs. And a organization called Encore.org was founded as “an innovative hub tapping the talent of people 50+ as a force of good.”  Check out their site if you have a minute. It is full of great opportunities and even fellowships!

With the notion of the second half of life being a long, slow, downhill slide, we create a fear and disrespect for aging.  We unnecessarily create a script that as we age, our best years are farther and farther behind us. In this way, we are setting a trap in mid-life of feeling gloomy about the future.  While we can’t be sure this will happen for everyone, because it’s based on statistical averages. for the most part, profiles of everyday people around the world chart a return to enjoyment, wisdom and an increase in overall fulfillment once past midlife.  So, rather than imagining our life as a hill we descend after we peak, we can re-imagine it as a smile we get to climb!