People everywhere are fascinated by sex. I am not the first to say so. We wonder what other people do and when and what it means to them. And some wonder how long it continues.

When I was in my 20s, I naively thought that sex was only for the young. It simply did not occur to me that people over 40 continued with such activities.

This was nothing to do with any connection to child-bearing, but simply to the assumption that only the young had an appetite for – or interest in – sexual relationships.

As we age, we learn more – about this as well as everything else. There is, of course, much more research now.

Surveys will tell you about the extent of sexual activity at different ages. But few of these involve people over 70. And we are often reluctant to raise the issue with people we know.

The Story of My Parents

Of all the stories I tell about my family, the one which always gains immediate attention is one about my father.

My parents lived in an independent apartment in a retirement community in central Pennsylvania. They moved in when they were both roughly 80 and died within three months of each other, 10 years later. That was nearly 20 years ago.

After about five years, my mother developed vascular dementia. This is, of course, every married person’s worst fear. The husband or wife is no longer what they once were, but you are still married. And it is harder and harder to cope with the sheer physical demands.

My mother remained in the family apartment for well over a year, with a caretaker having been hired to help with her daily needs.

But eventually, it was too much for my father to manage and it was agreed that she would move to the Assisted Living section of the community. She was looked after, but he could pop in several times a day to see her.

He rarely complained, at least to me. It was just something that had happened.

An Affair Begins at 90

In the meantime, his eyesight had worsened, and he was losing one of his great pleasures – reading. He listened to a lot of audiobooks (and complained that there was no easy way to find the place where you fell asleep).

He had a friend, a somewhat younger woman, who came in to read to him. He was terribly pleased about this and talked about it – and her – quite frequently in our regular phone calls.

I should have seen it coming. When a man starts mentioning a woman (or vice versa) quite often, it tends to mean that something more than friendship is involved. But it just didn’t occur to me.

My daughter suggested that it was a possibility and I thought, no, that is unlikely. Not because the thought upset me, but they just seemed too old.

I went to visit around the time of his 90^th birthday, when we were holding a party for him. Soon after I arrived, he sat down and clearly wanted to communicate something to me.

He had never sought very intimate discussions, but this time was different. He mentioned the name of the woman, who I had not yet met, and said he wanted me to know that they had become ‘an item’. I remember thinking the word was odd.

He was very clear. This was not ‘simply kissing and cuddling’, it was the real thing. Indeed, he said his doctor thought it was terrific for his health. There was no mention of love, but that did not seem important. The key thing was that he was happy. And he was. He was then 90 and she was 83.

I was surprised, but also delighted. Whatever my views about fidelity in marriage, they do not extend to the time when one partner is effectively no longer there. I made this very clear and could see him visibly relax.

He had wanted me to know but had been frightened of my reaction. He said his worst fear was that some other resident would tell my mother, but it did not look like that had happened. He still continued to visit her as before.

My father and his lady friend never moved in together, although perhaps they stayed in each other’s apartments when I was not there. I did not press for such details.

She continued to be a regular presence in his life until he died. Indeed, the night he died, she went to the hospital and sat with his body for a long time.

When Do People Stop Having Sex?

I don’t know when – and if – people stop having sex. I suspect there is a lot of it about. Certainly, in the retirement community, it was common for couples to spring up quite quickly after the death of a partner.

But I do know about my father. And when I tell this story, I have never heard a reaction other than “what a wonderful story” or “so, there’s hope then”. I’m sure he would be delighted for you to know.

This post was originally published with a different title on sixtyandme.com (see https://sixtyandme.com/the-taboo-topic-of-older-people-having-sex-lets-not-hide-from-the-facts)

As winter slowly turns into spring, most people turn their thoughts to warmer weather, flowers in the park and, probably, the birds and the bees. These are all good things to welcome, in my view.

But what I really like in the late spring, right up to the summer solstice (21 June) and beyond, are the long light evenings. Taking a walk when it is officially night-time – 9 p.m., say, but it feels like a slightly odd daytime – is very special. Even better when it is a warm evening.

There is something very soft and peaceful about such an evening. I find it very calming. And it feels like a bonus in your day, a little ‘extra time’ that is not usually available.

Winter Nights

Let us go back a step. The opposite of a summer light evening is the winter period around the solstice (21 December) when the nights are long and intrude heavily into the day.

Some people love the winter evenings ‘drawing in’, but not me. I am very, very uncomfortable at this time of year – from mid-November to late January or so in London, where I live.

It can become dark well before 4 o’clock in the afternoon – indeed, at the exact point of the winter solstice, the sun goes down before then and dusk comes even earlier.

Although the streetlights come on, I find it hard to see where I am. Often, the air is murky, which makes it worse. Yet this is a time when we need to be out and about doing things.

I feel disoriented and uneasy. I invariably arrive home in a bad mood.

And I worry especially for those older children who are making their way home in the dark. Many are wearing dark coats and trousers and they are certainly not very visible to drivers when crossing the street at this time.

Summer Nights

But let us come back to the late spring and summer, when I can see clearly and have no worries for the safety of children.

The precise length of the day on the summer solstice differs according to where you live, of course. In England (which is further north than many people think), the days can be very long.

In London, my research tells me, the sun rises at roughly 4.40 a.m. and sets at roughly 9.20 p.m. at the height of the solstice, but of course, it can remain light for much longer. Even at 10.00 p.m., the sky is not completely dark.

In New York, to give one comparison, the sun rises almost an hour later and sets nearly an hour earlier. This gives New Yorkers a long day as well, but not as long.

But the real point here is that it is lovely for all of us. If the day has been hot, you can go for a walk in the gentle air of the evening. Or you can sit in the garden with friends. Or the park.

The atmosphere is completely different from that of the day. It is evening but not evening. I find it magical.

Light Mornings

Those readers who were watching carefully – or who, like me, don’t sleep well through the night – may note that another effect of the summer solstice is a lot of very early light.

In London, you can wake up to sunshine well before 5 o’clock. This can be a problem if you need darkness to sleep.

But for me, it is a small price to pay for the long languorous evenings. I consider that to be our prize for putting up with the winter darkness.

Sun Standing Still

The word solstice means the sun standing still in Latin. It seems like a small pause before the change of the sun’s seasonal movement.

That makes sense to me. And it is a time when we can all stand still and ponder.

When you were younger but already adult, your parents most likely helped you in every way they could. Not everyone has such help, but a huge number of us do. And perhaps your grandparents did the same.

Maybe it was financial help. They gave you a down payment for a mortgage or helped with all those extras, like music lessons and school trips. Or college expenses for older children.

Or perhaps they offered a lot of useful advice about coping with different aspects of life. We all need that from time to time.

Or maybe they offered help looking after your children when you were at work, either on a regular basis or on occasion. Grandparents have always done a lot of such childcare.

They gave what they could – their financial resources their wisdom, their time.

Now you find yourself helping your children or grandchildren in much the same way.

What is going on?

Serial Reciprocity

Years ago, I carried out research on the nature of patient support groups, then often called ‘self-help’ groups. These are sometimes very small local groups of people with a common condition, such as breast cancer or being widowed young.

Or they might be branches of much larger national organisations, such as for people with disabled children or people suffering from arthritis.

I carried out a survey of members of some groups about how much people participated in their activities and why. I also visited a lot of groups and met their committee members. Most of all, I was interested in what people gained from them and what made the groups work.

It seemed to me that members of such support groups were essentially involved in a form of reciprocity, but not of the normal kind. When you ask a neighbour if you can borrow a cup of sugar, she may well have already borrowed some milk from you on an earlier occasion. This is direct reciprocation – you helped her and she now helps you.

But when you, as a long-standing member of a support group, give a new member advice about how to cope with a problem, it is unlikely that she has already helped you. She is new and bewildered and in need of help.

But another member of that group may well have helped you on an earlier occasion, when you were equally in need. You are grateful and want to give back to others in response.

What is going on here is what I called ‘serial reciprocity’. You give back to a new person because you have already been helped. Your motivation is to reciprocate or give back to others in thanks for the help you received.

Neither of you may think about it in this way, but it is often an underlying motivation.

It can go on and on, as members come and go. The eagerness to reciprocate goes on in a serial fashion. Help begets help.

Families

And this is exactly what goes on in families. The help you received from an earlier generation makes you want to give help back to the next generation.

Again, this may be financial help (‘the bank of mum and dad’) to help with all sorts of expenses of young couples. Or it may be advice, based on your experience. Or it may be your time, collecting grandchildren from school and the like.

And your children will do the same for their children and grandchildren.

Love

Of course, you can also say it is ‘love’ that makes you want to help your adult children and nothing to do with reciprocity. And that may be so.

But I think people are programmed to try to pay back for help received.

And who better to pay ‘back’ than members of your own family.

It is part of the circle of life.

Years ago, I coined the term ‘cheap luxury’ in my household, but I think it is a good time to spread it around. See if you think it has meaning for you.

The term first arose, if I am not mistaken, over a jar of mustard. We were in a supermarket deciding what to buy and confronted a shelf full of mustards. Some were much more expensive than others and we were not very well off, but we had some small room for manoeuvre.

How to choose? Leaving aside the type of mustard (French, German, English, with seeds etc), there was also the question of cost. If my budget had been extremely tight, I would have gone for the cheapest, no doubt about it. In contrast, those who have no budget constraints and always want the best would choose the most expensive.

We discussed it and thought the most expensive was also notably better, I forget the reasons, and decided to buy it.  Why? Because it was basically a cheap luxury. And then I began to think about it.

What makes for a cheap luxury?

Most of us like to feel cossetted now and again. We can’t afford it most of the time. But my great ‘discovery’ was that we could afford it when the overall cost was low.

The difference between the cheapest brand of mustard and the most expensive was large in relative terms, but altogether small in the scale of things.

Perhaps this is obvious. But how many people really go for it?

A little luxury now and again does us good. We feel pampered and, for no good reason, more loved. We luxuriate in it. So, my argument was, why not indulge in a cheap luxury when it is something you really appreciate? It won’t break the bank.

Examples of cheap luxuries

There are numerous examples of cheap luxuries, some of which most of us do without even thinking about it.

I love lying in a hot bubble bath, for instance, soaking up the heat. It eases the muscles and relaxes the whole body. As the water cools, I will often let a little out and add more hot water. I know this is not costless, but I do it nonetheless. It is a cheap luxury.

Thinking of baths, have you ever considered your bath soap? Most people, as far as I know, buy ordinary bath soap for themselves but choose expensive brands as gifts for friends and family for Christmas or birthdays.

But we decided long ago to buy the good soap for ourselves for regular use – not even keeping it for special occasions. The cost is low, and it just feels nice.

I could go on and on. So many foods and ordinary household products fall into the category of cheap luxuries, depending on your interests and tastes. So, too, do small items of clothing, such as the not-most-expensive silk underwear.

Expensive luxuries

Lest anyone think I am advocating always buying at the high end, let me stress this is not remotely the case.

A new sports car – or even many ‘another’ car – is not a cheap luxury. It is an expensive one, as it will cost a lot of money. Hugely more than a simple car to get you around. Your bank balance will really notice.

I haven’t owned any car for years and when we did, it was a VW beetle. But I would never buy an expensive car now.

First class train or air tickets fall in the same category. You can’t even argue that they will get you to your destination any faster. Good luck to those who can afford to pay for them without holding back on other expenditure. But you know you are forking out sizeable amounts.

The same is true for hotels. You recognise the luxury and perhaps even decide to go for it, but you need to know what you are doing. In these days of inexpensive B&Bs, or even air B&Bs providing more space, luxury hotels are there for people who are not worried about cost.

None of us are going anywhere at the moment, but we will soon. I never travel first class, as it is a high price to pay for peace and quiet. And I have never liked the expensive hotels I have stayed in, as they tend to lack a human touch.

So I am not into expensive stuff – just cheap luxury.

Indulge yourself

I am not generally one to tell other people how to spend their money. We all have different interests and financial situations, and it is up to each of us. But if you do not do so already, think about splashing out on a nice bar of soap for yourself (or the equivalent).

You will get more than your money’s worth in the sense of luxury it brings.

This was first published on Sixtyandme.com

I cannot keep my secret quiet any longer. I have suffered in silence for years. Only my closest friends know the situation and they tend to sympathise. It’s not really my fault, BUT I really hate shopping. I always have.

The problem

Let’s try to ‘unpack’ this little problem. Perhaps I had a bad experience in the past. Perhaps if I were to be given the right sort of aversion therapy (or is it the opposite?), I might learn to love shopping.

I doubt it. There is very little I could learn to like.

First and foremost, I am not very acquisitive. I don’t much like ‘things’. A new dress rarely cheers me up. Nor does finding just the right vase or tablecloth.

I might make an exception for a new book I look forward to reading, but there aren’t many such exceptions.

Secondly, I am really uncomfortable in crowds. I try to find times to shop when the crowds will be small, but it is difficult. Many shops are quiet first thing in the morning, but if it requires public transport to get there, you are stuck in any case.

As you can imagine, I would never shop in a sale – people struggling to get into the front in order to acquire that one thing specially on sale is my idea of sheer hell.

Thirdly, I can’t bear the whole process of trudging from shop to shop to find the right thing. I find it incredibly dispiriting. Leaving aside food shopping, I have never found one store – yes, even a large department store – which sold exactly what I wanted in every department.

Too much choice

And finally, I hate being given too much choice. I can stand for what feels like hours in front of a shelf full of breakfast cereals, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights.

Yes, I will often fall down this line of thought… Maybe I should try that one with the little bits of fruit, but no, would I be better off with something with bran? Does it have too much hidden sugar? Or salt? Is this one over-priced because it has a child’s gift inside?

Point a gun and tell me what to choose and I would be much happier.

I am certainly no better with house furnishings. However much I try to prepare for such decisions, I am constantly worrying that something is the wrong size or the wrong colour for everything else in that room. I have no ability to visualise it.  It makes me feel incompetent. Not recommended.

And it is much worse with clothes. I am an awkward size (too short, hips too big), but then everyone I know says they think they are an awkward size. No problem if you enjoy the process anyway, but in my case it is a nightmare.

I dislike the whole rigamarole of trying things on – not because of the slim young things in the dressing room – but simply because I have never been very good at getting dressed and undressed.

And then you are back to the problem of choice. Well, it doesn’t fit perfectly, but then nothing ever does, so do I choose the slightly tight waist or the awkward fit over the shoulders?

Do I really need this garment anyway?

Mail Order

So, you might argue – if you hate shopping, why not go the mail order route? It is so easy in this day and age.

Yes, I do a lot of shopping via mail order. I have learned, over time, which companies sell trousers that actually fit and which catalogues’ pictures are reasonably accurate. Some companies have very helpful staff who will discuss details like the ‘feel’ of a garment. Much welcomed by me.

It is a bit of a nuisance when you need to send things back, but they are making the packaging much more suitable for this purpose. And at least the line in the post office is not much longer than the line in the store you would have experienced if you had bought the item in a store in the first place.

The test I can’t pass

Shopping feels like a kind of test that I am always failing. Either I come back with nothing – and everyone says “What? You couldn’t find anything you liked?” Or I come home with something and they say “What? You chose that?”

I hate shopping. I’m afraid the feeling will stay with me until the en

This was initially published by Sixtyandme.com. 

Do you feel that you spend too much time on life’s trivia? You know the sort of thing – dealing with gas or electricity bills, coping with computer or broadband problems or just keeping the household running okay.

A certain amount of time is acceptable, but sometimes there is a problem that refuses to be fixed easily. You try one thing, then another and nothing works – and you end up having a very bad day.

This happened to me recently when I needed to buy – of all prosaic things – a mop.

Broken mop

 It was about two weeks ago. My mop handle broke – in just the same way its predecessor had done before. I decided I not only needed a new mop, but perhaps a new kind of mop.

I asked my very savvy neighbour what type of mop she would recommend. I won’t bore you with the details, but she suggested a particular type and brand (it was a mop and bucket set) and I thought the problem was solved. All I needed to do was to buy it.

Online shops

I am a great believer that you can buy anything online and very quickly.

I went to the online supermarket that I use regularly and could see no sign of this mop. Yes, they had the bucket, they even had refill mops for this brand, but the mop itself was nowhere to be seen.

So off I went to Amazon, the supplier that everyone loves and hates at the same time (but that’s another story). Yes, they had the mop, but not the bucket. I was informed that they would have the perfect ‘mop and bucket set’ in three weeks, even at a good price. But I wanted the mop now.

This was getting annoying.

Actual shops

I then remembered that there is a not too distant hardware store, which sometimes has such things as mops, although it tends to be overpriced. I wanted to phone to check, but didn’t have their name. And then I had a senior moment and couldn’t think of the right word for a hardware shop. Nor could my husband.

But somehow, it came to me and I phoned the shop. They had the mop, they said, but the price given was so low that I doubted if it was the right one. And the bucket would be just under £50 ($65). I even phoned back to see if I got that right.

Was it a silver-plated bucket? I have no idea, but I do not need a bucket for that price!

This was getting seriously annoying. I was definitely losing my cool.

Wider impact

Indeed, I was in such a state that I realised I needed to stop. I went off to make lunch.

This may have been a mistake. I was so riled up that I began to do stupid things with the stove and nearly burned the lunch.

I certainly managed to annoy my long-suffering and very relaxed husband. He told me he thought I was about to burn myself or even damage the house, never mind the lunch. I didn’t.

But it was not a relaxed time. I kept trying to explain what a problem I had had, but he said he wasn’t really interested in a mop. Conversation came to a stop.

And, indeed, who could blame him? How interesting can a mop be?

Buying a mop

After this break, I worked it out. I bought the mop from Amazon (it arrived the next day) and ordered the bucket from my online shop, with some other groceries, all of which were duly delivered a few days later.

That was that – a shiny new mop and bucket set.

After thoughts

Why do we get so annoyed at such trivia?  Is it just me on a bad day? No, I think little things can set anyone off from time to time. And the fact that it is a small thing just makes it worse. You know you should ‘do better’ when the issue isn’t all that serious.

I wondered whether it is the internet. Not really, I think, but it does raise our expectations that everything is available quickly. And things often are. But not always. We need to learn that and build it into our planning.

Think of our mothers – or, even more, our grandmothers – who would never had the luxury of dealing with such trivia so quickly. They would have needed to trudge down to actual shops, often some distance away, to find what they wanted. If they found it at all.

They would be amazed to see how easy it is for us today.

(A version of this article was first published on SixtyandMe (see https://sixtyandme.com/trivial-daily-nuisances-how-difficult-can-it-be-to-buy-a-new-mop/)

People who go everywhere by car may have many complaints – traffic, the price of petrol (gas), or finding a parking space. But at least they can expect to travel in comfort.

Many of us, however, are dependent on buses, trains, and subways (known as the ‘underground’ or ‘tube’ in London and the ‘metro’ in some other places) to get around. We do not always travel in comfort, despite such trips being part of our daily routine.

Getting a Seat

I well remember the first time it happened. I was in my early 60s and standing in the underground train, thinking about nothing in particular.

A young man in a seat was waving, trying to get someone’s attention, I assumed behind me. But I looked behind and no one was there. My brain re-jigged the situation, and I realised he was trying to get my attention. Why?

Of course, he was trying to offer me a seat. Me! Of all odd things to do. I was young and able and waved him away to indicate I was fine.

This was the very first time I was ever aware of being labelled as ‘old’ and it came as a shock.

Seats Galore

And then it started to happen more often. Someone would prod me and point to a person getting up, indicating that the vacated seat was available.

Or they would stand up very visibly and offer the seat there and then. On tube trains, on buses. More and more frequently.

There was one period when I had a bad back and sitting down was very painful. I turned down the frequent offers. But once someone decides you need their seat, it is very hard to dissuade them.

Once or twice, I even took a seat, which I didn’t want, because it was too complicated to explain to the eager helper.

Who Offers Seats?

In my experience, women are more likely to offer a seat than men and older people more than younger ones. They seem, more often than not, to be foreigners, brought up in an etiquette that no longer applies here.

But I think it is happening more often. Perhaps there are more foreigners using public transport in London. Or perhaps Londoners generally are becoming more aware of the issue. Even young men, lost in their own worlds, do occasionally offer.

Who Gets Seats?

Most often, it seems to be older women who are offered seats. And anyone with a cane or otherwise visibly disabled. I know that when I have a cold or am generally under the weather, I get offered one more readily. I assume it is because I am looking older.

Older men sometimes get one. My husband actually needs one more than I do, because of a bad knee. If we are together, I will try to ensure he gets one, although it is difficult to persuade him.

And sometimes women with children or pregnant women get offered a seat, but the latter are complicated as they might just be overweight.

I know that nearly 40 years ago, I wasn’t offered a seat when I was nine months pregnant and there was no mistaking it.

Last week, I watched a woman with a guide dog get on a bus and two people vacated a double seat to allow her to sit with the dog next to her. I wondered how the dog knew what was going on. But even more, I wondered how the dog knew which bus to get on.

In any case, the older I get, the more I welcome an offered seat. It is no longer a surprise, but a wonderful relief to get off my feet.

This was first published by SixtyandMe (see https://sixtyandme.com/how-often-do-you-get-to-sit-comfortably-on-public-transportation/)

Almost everybody has friends. It is part of life to have them. Some of us have loads and some have very few, but we all feel that they are important in our lives.

And we all know who our friends are. They are people who are not our family, not our neighbours, and much more important than acquaintances.

(Of course, some people count some family members as friends and married people often say that their spouse is their ‘best friend’. This is a wrinkle that needn’t worry us here.)

We get together with friends when we can, we talk to them in person or on the phone, and generally view them as a significant addition to our well-being.

But although there is a single word – friends – for all the people in this category, in actual fact they do not all mean the same to us at all. They play very different roles in our lives.

Friends Who Provide Us Company

You probably have some friends who you enjoy doing things with – they provide company, diversion, and a chance to explore new things. They are often people you see in a group.

There are loads of activities which you might undertake with such friends on a regular basis. You could meet to play tennis, to go for walks, to explore the meaning of books, or to sing together in a choir.

There are also all sorts of other meeting places, where you might get together on a regular basis for a drink or a meal ­– depending on the country, a local wine bar or cafe or pub.

These people tend to share your tastes, whether in movies or sports. They are fun to be with.

We see these friends a lot, but we often don’t really know them very well. We chat about day-to-day events, but don’t go any deeper. They might even be in the middle of a divorce and not tell us about it.

Many of the activities we undertake with such friends are not possible – or are severely hampered – during these difficult times of Covid. You might keep in touch with some of them by phone or email, but that would be it.

Friends Who Provide Us Intimacy

In contrast, you probably have other friends who you tell your problems to and listen to theirs. They understand your character and the deeper recesses of your mind – and vice versa.

You tend to see them on a one-to-one basis, at least some of the time, so you can have more intimate discussions.

These friends, whether you do or don’t do things with them, have an importance well beyond the amount of time you spend with them. You may not even see them for years, but the telephone, email and, nowadays, Zoom enable you to keep up to date.

And when you do meet up with them, even after a long break, the connection is so deep that you talk with them as if you had done so yesterday. Uncannily, you pick up where you last left off.

Indeed, you may not bother with the usual niceties (the weather, a minor cold, small irritations), but go straight to the important stuff about what is going on emotionally for you.

It is to these friends that we go when we are worried about something or need to make an important decision. They know us, care about us deeply and always have our best interests in mind.

These friends are often people we knew in school or college and have kept in touch with over the years. They were there for all the ups and downs of early relationships, they knew when you were trying to have a baby, and followed your career choices and dilemmas over time.

But they might equally be people you met through any number of circumstances – perhaps at a dinner or through work or any activity which enabled you to talk comfortably. Somehow, you made a very deep connection and felt there was no need for lots of explanations.

You probably have fewer such friends. Perhaps just one. There is no question of losing touch with them because of the pandemic.

Helping People to Make Friends

These distinctions became very clear to me over 30 years ago. At that time I doing research on friendships among people with learning difficulties. Many were being released from the hospitals where they had lived most of their lives and much attention was given to fostering their well-being.

There was great enthusiasm for moving them into what was always called ‘the community’. The term is falsely reassuring and makes the new environment sound warm and full of friends.

It was thought that they would then be free to do what they liked, when they liked, just like other people.

But social workers began to notice that, in the course of a day, these people only spoke with shopkeepers and the like. And so, they wanted to help them to find friends of their own.

A popular solution was to arrange discos where they could meet. Their intentions were good, but the effect was limited. How many friends – of either kind – would you make in the loud surroundings of a disco?

A colleague and I wrote a report on the issue, but I am not sure what happened as a result. I would hope that more imaginative ways were found to help this group of people to develop and sustain relationships. It is certainly what I would have wanted if I had a son or daughter in that situation.

The Importance of Friendships

Friendships are important, of whatever kind. Human beings are social animals, a fact that has become particularly visible as social activities have come under strain during the pandemic.

Our individual needs differ, with some people wanting loads of casual friends to make themselves feel comfortable. Others have less need for activities with other people but feel a real need for one or two close friends.

I hope that you have managed to sustain your friendships during this difficult – and sometimes lonely – period.

A well-known saying floated into my head recently: “The past is another country.” Interesting, I thought, and wondered who said it first.

It turned out to be J. P. Hartley, the novelist, and it is the first line, slightly wrongly remembered, of his novel (later a movie), The Go Between:

“The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.”

I began to think about whether this is right or not, in terms of my own past, but then my thoughts took a different turn. The question that was buzzing in my head was whether the same was true of the future, when viewed from the perspective of younger people.

Is Being Old a Foreign Country?

When I was young – pick any age up to 55 or so – I definitely thought that the future was a foreign country. It would be strange to me, and it would be difficult to cope with.

And they would definitely “do things differently” there. I looked around at the old people I knew, and they clearly had different interests and temperaments and felt altogether different to me. It was not something I looked forward to.

Yes, I knew that at some point I would become an old lady, but that in itself seemed an odd concept. Me – old? Surely not. It was, literally, unimaginable.

At the same time, I thought that if it ever happened, I would be a different person when I got there. I would have the same name and the same history, of course, but there the resemblance would end.

Somehow, I thought that when I was magically transformed into this strange state of old womanhood, I would be unrecognisable. I would not be the me I had always known.

It was going to be hard – I would not know how to navigate all the twists and turns foisted on me by the passage of time.

It would be a double learning problem – a new me in a new landscape.

The Future Is Here

How very, very wrong could I be! Now that I am an old lady, by whatever measure, having recently reached the age of 79, I realise that old age is not another country at all.

Yes, there are aspects of my life that are different, but I don’t feel that I am wandering in a strange land. And there is a great deal that is very much the same.

Old age creeps up on us rather stealthily, even if we don’t make a fuss of our birthdays. Only a few things happen fast, like retirement from your lifetime’s work, although in my case, I worked freelance and work just slowly stopped coming in.

But generally, it just means a few things changing each year – the hair getting whiter, the wrinkles getting deeper, and so forth. You walk a little slower, your hearing becomes slightly more difficult, sometimes you even become shorter. I could list much more.

You get used to one thing, absorb that, and start getting used to another. There are very few shocks involved, in the absence of a significant death or illness, which is another matter altogether.

At the same time, other things happen, too. Some are definitely negative – friends die or become much more ill. Your energy slowly diminishes, so you tend to be more homebound.

But on the positive side, you may acquire grandchildren, and they may become a very active and joyful part of your life. Your relationships with your adult children change and deepen. You may develop new interests and activities.

And You’re Here, Too

And, most important, as you get used to these changes, you realise it is the same old you dealing with them. For good or ill, there is no amazing transformation. Whatever your character and personality at age 30, you will be the same at 60 – or 70 – and beyond.

If you were an optimist when you were young, you will find yourself still an optimist later. Have you had a tendency to fuss over unexpected events? You are almost certainly still fussing later. If you laughed at life’s vicissitudes, you will be laughing still.

I was reminded that when my mother was about 50, she declared to my father that she had decided to become an “eccentric” old lady. That sounded a good ambition, but my father laughed. “You’ve never been eccentric in your life,” he replied accurately. “So you won’t be eccentric then. You will be you.”

And he was proved right. She never became the least bit eccentric.

Knowing Yourself

I think this is good news, although perhaps not everyone will agree. It means that by the time you reach old age – however defined – you have lived with yourself a long time and know how to cope with your own individual ways.

Some things in your life will have changed and others remain very much the same. If you liked swimming or playing bridge then, you probably do so now. Yes, there are some new challenges, but they are softened by new joys.

Growing older changes both our internal and external environment in subtle ways. But it can still be a lot of fun!

This post was initially published by Sixtyandme.com (see https://sixtyandme.com/old-age-not-another-country/)

They say that the older you get, the more difficulties you have sleeping. This may be true, but I have always had trouble sleeping, so for me it is nothing new.

I have read all the advice about how to avoid – or, at least, minimise – sleeping problems. No coffee after 2pm (in my case, no coffee at all), no daytime naps, no screens an hour before bedtime, and so forth.

None of them seem to help much. Or if they do help slightly, I still do not sleep well.

And then I discovered sleep apps, and they have made a huge difference.

The Device

Some people sleep with their smartphones, but I don’t like to do so. I am always afraid that it will go off. It is somehow not relaxing.

But long ago, I discovered – and fell in love with – the Apple iPod. This is a very simple and small device on which you can listen to music or podcasts, updated regularly via the computer.

This is otherwise known as an MP3 player.

It is wonderful for sleeping, and I never go to bed without it. You can put an earplug into one ear, with no problems of size or weight and hence not disturb a sleeping partner.

In the daytime, the iPod is useful for listening to the radio or podcasts while cooking or gardening.

Meditation Apps

I have been using meditation programmes for years and managed to find one or two that I work well. They encourage you to relax your muscles, to breathe in a deep and soothing way, and to focus on various matters that take your mind away from your day-to-day concerns.

Some work better than others. I find those that direct your mind to focus very specifically on some image or action work best. Very general suggestions don’t work so well for me, because my mind goes back to whatever is worrying it.

A number of meditation programmes emphasise that it is important not to try to achieve some particular end, but how do you try not to try? This is a conundrum. Sometimes contemplating what this means in practice puts me to sleep. Problem solved.

Sleep Stories

The most recent addition to this genre is the sleep story. This is a brilliant idea. Reading you a story that lulls you off to sleep, just like a small child.

There are a growing number of stories available on sleep apps. Some are old stories you may have read before, whether fiction or non-fiction. Some have been written expressly for the purpose.

A common theme is a travel story, taking you on a journey from one well known place to another or along a particular coastline or through especially lovely scenery.

Many are labelled by headings to suggest that they are not arousing or that it won’t matter that you never hear the end. All this is sensible.

What to Look for in a Sleep App

But the problem with sleep apps is that finding ones that suit is not as easy as one might think.

First, you need the person doing the talking to have a pleasant voice. Not raspy or too nasal. No strong and distracting accent. They need to be very mellow and gentle. Surprisingly, many are not.

Then you don’t want self-advertising. I found one meditation programme that I liked a lot, but every episode started with a long invitation to donate if you found it helpful. Plus where to do so.

Another informed the listener, with some excitement, that they had just produced a book and added where it could be bought.

If you know your system well, all these intrusions can be eliminated by a quick forward wind, but that is still annoying when you are trying to sleep.

Whether fiction or non-fiction, the stories need to succeed in the delicate balance of being neither too interesting nor too boring.

You might think the latter would be perfect, but it’s not – if you are too bored, you cease to listen and then start thinking of your own worries. But if it is too interesting, of course, you try to stay awake to hear how it all turns out.

I have found this a major dilemma and difficult to get right.

Another difficulty for me is, I also get annoyed if I think the story is badly written. I am an inveterate editor when I read books, newspapers, or any other writing, which sometimes distracts me from the content.

The same is true for sleep stories. Too many adjectives? You need an editor! I am awake.

And there are still other difficulties. One reader did a wonderful job of lulling me to sleep, only to add at the end of the reading that he hoped this had put me to sleep. His voice was so loud that it woke me up.

Another was probably recorded in a not completely sound-proof room. I could easily hear the sound of a distant doorbell. Perhaps he thought no one would notice. But I was immediately awake – was it mine or on the recording? At this hour, who could it be? It certainly made me jump, and it took a while to settle down.

Keep Trying

There are new sleep stories being developed each day. I will keep trying to find the app that works well and has none of the above annoyances.

If you suffer sleep problems, do give it a try.

This post was originally published by SixtyandMe.com (see https://sixtyandme.com/sleep-apps/)