I see life as a journey by foot through time. 

   Is there such a thing as a “pilgrim gene?” Travel writer and novelist Bruce Chatwin wrote of the “sacramental” aspect of walking. These days, a lot gets written about its therapeutic value for seniors like myself. 

   I have never given much thought to the practical benefits of my obsession. The post-war Bronx, New York, where I grew up, was haunted by a hushed word: Holocaust. No Jewish home was without it, without the distancing silence it opened up between parents and children, the loneliness contained in the unexplained. 

   I walked to get away from it, to map with my feet something that was my own, unshadowed: the soft spring light on gray buildings, the delicious silence of snow, the daggered wind. I bravely absorbed the wind. The wind absorbed me. Every gust I felt in my travels seemed a continuation of those first gusts in the Bronx. 

  Walking was the incubator of imagination. I’d find myself with Huck Finn, on his raft, navigating the Mississippi. Walking, you might say, on water. Passing the Chinese takeout as we oared deeper into the great river. 

   I was 80 when COVID hit. An inauspicious time to be an incorrigible walker. New York residents bandied back and forth a brand-new word—lockdown. Everyone was urged to remain housebound. Virtually all work places, including public libraries, and my Poets House, were shut down.  

  Immobility was more fearful to me than possible death. Immobility was death. Every morning I took my backpack and went out in search of a writing refuge. I’d pass block after block of empty streets and shops. The feeling of having wound up on an abandoned Hollywood movie set: New York at the end-of-days. 

   My shadow was the only shadow I encountered. If I cried out, no one would hear me. 

   After much searching, I found what I was looking for: a bench along one of the promontories of the Hudson River. I still go there to write. The joggers have returned. The yellow kayaks are back in the water. The past is back as though it had never been away.  

   I still remember stopping cold in the middle of a line. I’d be sitting in the sun, in the cool breeze of the river, hand poised dynamically in midair, and be jolted by the sudden awareness that all over the city old people like myself were lying stiff on gurneys.  

   Why them and not me? Who does the cosmic math that decides such things? Who turns the sun toward my face and away from theirs? 

   I’d walk back home slowly, my shame leaning heavily against my feet. Survivor shame. The shame my family felt towards relatives who disappeared into ditches in Poland. Gone one day as if they’d never been. 

   When the war ended, there was an outbreak of desperate walking throughout Europe. 

People looking for their past, for people who were part of their past, for homes and neighborhoods and hopes that needed to be reclaimed, or finally put to rest.  

   Sometimes, walking in my old neighborhood, walking is the only familiar thing I find. New layers of ethnic skin have grown over the old. New histories have replaced the old. After a while, even the soft edges of one’s nostalgia are blunted. You can’t outwalk loss. Losing, as the poet Elizabeth Bishop wrote, is an art. One that isn’t hard to master. It takes practice, she said. Aging gives us many opportunities for mastery. 

   I have lived for the past half century on Manhattan’s Lower East Side. Since COVID, one sees fewer old people in the streets. There is an emptiness beneath the sheltering trees of the Village View housing complex where many seniors live. The habit of indoor living is like any other habit. It revolves around itself. It atrophies itself from what is not itself. It sees the outside world from within, and pronounces it dangerous. 

  At Village View there lives a woman, who like myself, turned 85 last year. She leaves her house only to shop, to go to the doctor. When we were young, we were lovers and great friends, and the cafes and movie theaters we walked to were the extensions of our love.  

   Visiting her, I connect with the strange intimacy of walking. We didn’t walk as far as we thought we would. In my dreams, I walk without stopping. I am always walking. 

Robert Hirschfield is a New York-based writer and poet. He has spent much of the last five years writing and assembling poems about his mother’s Alzheimer’s. In 2019, Presa Press published a volume of his poems titled, The Road to Canaan. His work has appeared in Parabola, Tricycle, Spirituality & Health, Sojourners, The Moth (Ireland), Tears in The Fence (UK) and other publications.      

A New Friend for The Long Journey — 3rd Act Magazine

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The post A Walking Life appeared first on 3rd Act Magazine.

Are you a Boomer? You are if you were born between 1946 and 1964, following what has been labelled the “silent generation.” In sheer numbers, Boomers represented a huge segment of the population. Forecast futurist Marvin Cetron put it this way: “In a very real sense, the history of the United States in the second half of the 20th century is the history of a single generation, the Baby Boomers.”  

Growing up in the shadow of economic instability and war, the silent generation worked hard, tended to be cautious and sought stability. In contrast, Boomers were more self-assured, independent and competitive, maturing in a time of strong economic gain. They valued relationships, were goal-oriented, had a strong work ethic, and were community-conscious.  

Eventually, Boomers were  divided into two groups. Those born between 1955 and 1964 later became known as Generation Jones, a term coined in 1999 by author Jonathan Ponntell. Although originally grouped with all Baby Boomers because they were born during a high birth period, sociologists eventually accepted Generation Jones as a separate generation. Most of those who make up Generation Jones did not grow up with World War II veterans as fathers and came of age after compulsory military service and the Vietnam draft ended. Notables Oprah Winfrey, U.S. Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayer and Jill Abramson, former executive editor of The New York Times are members of Generation Jones, while Bill Gates is considered  a late Boomer.  

The 60s may be recalled as a decade of contrasts. There were riots, boycotts, antiwar demonstrations, and protests for freedom and civil rights. At the same time, it was an era filled with hope and optimism based on a strong belief that social policies could be changed. Boomers embraced society’s heightened awareness of the importance of helping others. With their commitment to service and volunteerism, they made a lasting impact on society.  

Fast forward to today. The oldest Boomers are in their 70s. By 2030, about one in five Americans will be older than 65. In 2023, almost 20 percent of the workforce was 65 or older. Having enjoyed a long period of generational dominance in an era of strong economic growth and expansion, they remain a force to be reckoned with as they envision the last chapter in their lives.  

Boomers remain agents of change inspiring those who follow them to push against ageism. They will leave a legacy of social change with their advocacy in the areas of housing, health care, women’s rights, gay rights, civil rights, and social equality. Finally, they will benefit younger generations by financially supporting programs that help them.  

We can all become change agents no matter our age. Opportunities to make a difference abound. And then we can say, as Frank Sinatra sang, “I did it my way.”    

Linda Henry writes regularly on topics related to aging, health care, and communication and is the co-author of several books, including Transformational Eldercare from the Inside Out: Strengths-Based Strategies for Caring.  She conducts workshops nationally on aging and creating caring work environments. Her volunteer emphasis is age-friendly communities.

Aging with Intention – What’s Age Got to Do With it?

The Boomers are Here

Aging with Intention—Planning for the Third Chapter

The post Ever Heard About Generation Jones? appeared first on 3rd Act Magazine.

“Are there other ways to get the tractor to town besides driving it yourself?” I asked Dad before going to bed. The late hour and residual jet lag were not optimal conditions for meaningful discussion but I asked anyway because I was anxious. For months, we had discussed, long-distance, his decision to sell the tractor and now we were at the point of disposition. How was “it” going to get to town? One more decision. 

“Yeah, it would cost about a hundred bucks to tow it,” he offered, with a resistant, ‘I don’t want to pay it,’ tone in his voice. 

My “Pop” is wired for doing things himself and when he can save a dime, well, it’s like winning a lottery bet. Equipped with mechanical engineering “know-how” and a good measure of initiative and devotion, he thrives on his list of projects. A self-described tinkerer, he is always up to something, especially around taking care of the house he and Mom built together. She’s been gone for seven years, now. 

While “know-how,” initiative, and resilience have served him well, he’s managed to get himself into a few injurious situations in recent years resulting in hospitalizations and rehab stays. His journey to honesty and awareness regarding his (evolving and devolving) physical capacities has been fraught at times with stubbornness, injury, frustration, and sometimes, a touch of foolishness. This weighs on me, living so far away. 

“Dad, I know you love driving the tractor, and I just don’t feel comfortable with the idea of you doing this.” I worried about the unpredictable impacts of a 10-mile tractor ride exertion on a person with chronic spinal limitations. 

He acknowledged my concern with a nod, but no words. We retired for the night. 

On some level, I knew he had already mapped this whole trip, the route, the rest stops, and the contingency plans in the event the old ’64 International tractor might take its last gasp on the way. This project had become a dream, imagining a “last ride” out on the road. 

Chowan County countryside is beautiful in springtime, with farm fields tilled, and being made ready for planting. Farmhouses, barns, and small family graveyards of extended relatives would mark the route. Driving in the country is a spiritual experience. You can go slow. 

We met at the kitchen table the next morning. His breakfast of choice, a bowl of runny instant cheese grits, a side of sausage links, and a cup of instant coffee, all prepared in the microwave, awaited him. 

“Morning, Pop,” I plopped at the table beside him. 

“Morning sweetie,” he returned. 

We sat together, quiet moments passing. Both of us being introverts, it’s a relief to not have to fill the space between us with words so early in the day. 

It had been five months since our last visit. Sizing him up, he appeared relaxed, and less achy in his body and mood. Having my husband and I around for the last few days already seemed to be “re-filling” his reservoir. Getting up to nuke his coffee again, he moved with ease. 

Before coming down for breakfast, I rehearsed my very good reasons why Dad should not drive the tractor to town himself. To be honest, I didn’t know if I had it in me to extend emotional support and advocacy once again (across the miles) because of a bad choice made. Besides, what responsible daughter lets her 89-and-a-half-year-old parent get up on a tractor? My reasoning seemed very sensible and justified. 

Finishing breakfast, I lingered at the table, waiting for any cues from him about our exchange the night before. 

“I’ve decided I want to try driving the tractor to town … I feel up to it … you and Fred will be there if we need to make adjustments along the way … I want to try.” 

Initially, the clarity of his declaration was disorienting. I was all prepared to do another round of pros and cons with him, but obviously, he had already sized me up and determined it best to make the call for himself. 

“So having it towed is really off the table?” I ask. 

“I want to try,” he repeated himself. 

I felt my exhale, all my reasoned thoughts and exhaustion give way like water that finally gets to tumble over a cliff edge, set loose. I was slowly realizing that he didn’t just want to do this, he needed to do this. Further, the power of his need would also require me to relinquish my own urgent need to protect him. 

Instinctively pivoting, searching for a new inner footing, I heard compassion arise from within: “You can persist with your protecting, raining on his parade, or you can yield, and let be.” 

“Well, okay,” I turned, looking directly toward him. “What can I do to help?” 

Things moved swiftly from there. Having my nod of “blessing,” Dad collected himself, calling out signals for the next steps to be ready to leave around 2 p.m. 

He climbed up on the tractor, his spirit and body moving slowly but with lightness and assurance. He pressed the ignition button and the old motor turned over once again on the first try, a good sign. 

Cinching the chin strap of his straw hat, he called above the engine noise. 

“I’ll see you at the farm,” he said with a smile, and off he went with a wave, clutch smoothly released, deftly shifting to second and then third gear before reaching the first curve down the road. 

We followed him at a just-right distance, meeting him at his rest stops with the watering bottle and hoots of enthusiasm. He looked so strong, relaxed, and SO very happy. And I felt so relieved and joyful, joining him in exhilaration for the fulfillment of his dream. We were all in all the way to town. 

Agency is the freedom to choose and to act. To support (allow) this free choice in one we care for, is an act of love. 

Rev. Harriet Platts, 62, retired hospice chaplain, describes herself as an urban contemplative, seeking wholeness, balance in the “everyday” of life. Her creative outlets include iPhone photography, particularly portraitures, and writing urban field notes about what she experiences in relationship to the natural world. She loves walking, reading historical novels, and cultivating her community of friends and family.   

 The Truth About Long-Distance Caregiving 

Harriet Platts has been providing long-distance, caregiving support tracking for both her parents for more than 15 years, with episodic, increased involvement, and over-the-phone and in-person visits driven by need, medical crises, and transition. Her mother died in 2017, and she lost her only brother and sibling in 2020. She currently lives in Seattle and her father is aging in place (at this time) on the Chowan River, outside of Edenton, North Carolina. They are 2,500 miles apart. Platts remains connected with her father by phone/texting most days, and in-person visits two to three times a year. “From a distance, I had a practice of writing-mailing cards with hymn lyrics written in them of some of their favorites. Dad and Mom sang at the dinner table, as was a family custom. I also often sang to them on the phone,” she says. Platts can continue long-distance care because of the robust circle of extended family, neighbors, and local support near her father. Other long-distance caregivers are not so lucky. 

According to the “Caregiving in the U.S. 2020” study by AARP and the National Alliance of Caregiving, 11 percent of family caregivers live an hour or more away from their aging or ailing family member, with many living hours away. Long-distance caregivers spend nearly twice as much on care as those with family members nearby because of the need to hire help. If you are a long-distance caregiver, check out aarp.org/caregiving for a wealth of resources. 

FOR WASHINGTON

Your Vote Needed to Keep Long-term Care Benefit in Washington  

Working Washingtonians, and especially those caring for loved ones who are sick or aging, should be on the lookout for an important vote this November. If passed, Initiative 2124 will increase costs for working people, including nurses, teachers, and firefighters, by eliminating Washington’s long-term care insurance program.   

I-2124 will send more people into debt when faced with expensive long-term care bills and private insurance premiums they can’t afford. And more than 820,000 family caregivers in our state will lose important supports and benefits that help them take care of their families and loved ones. 

 Family caregivers are the backbone of our long-term care system, helping with everything from buying groceries and managing medications to bathing and dressing. Caring for a family member or close friend is one of the most important roles we are likely to play in our lifetime. However, the emotional, physical and financial tolls of caregiving can be profound. 

 Washington’s long-term care insurance program provides some important relief. For instance, funds can be used to help pay family caregivers to offset lost income while they are providing care. Funds can also be used to hire homecare aides and pay for home safety modifications, meal delivery, or assistive technology. If passed, I-2124 will strip away these critical supports. 

 AARP, the Washington State Nurses Association, labor unions representing home health care workers, doctors, grocery workers, teachers, and organizations like the MS Society representing Washingtonians living with pre-existing conditions are all urging a “no” vote on I-2124. 

The Virtual Family Caregiver

The Dawn of a New “Age”

Life’s Completion

The post A Tractor Tale of a ‘Last’ Ride: ‘What can I do to help?’  appeared first on 3rd Act Magazine.

When you live in a beautiful part of the country like we do, you really don’t need an excuse to go exploring. But you might be surprised to find that there are hundreds of hidden objects all around you with the express purpose of getting you to go outside and seek adventure. They’re called geocaches. Geocaching, a global treasure-hunting activity, encourages exploration and outdoor recreation for millions of people worldwide. It is a lot like a treasure hunt or an Easter egg hunt, an adult version of hide-and-seek, or even Pokémon GO. People all over the world have hidden caches for you to find using the GPS function on your smartphone. 

It all started in May 2000, when Dave Ulmer hid the first cache, known as the Original Stash, in Seattle. The activity quickly gained popularity and caches began to appear not only in Washington but globally. 

Geocaches come in all shapes and sizes—cache creativity is endless. Some are large reusable plastic or metal containers (think Tupperware and ammo boxes); others are micro-canisters hanging from trees. Some are as small as an acorn and look exactly like an acorn, while others mimic sticks, frogs, lipstick tubes, empty cans, squirrels, or industrial nuts and bolts. There are caches, T-shirts, and other merchandise for sale on Geocaching.com, plus thousands more on Etsy and Amazon. Many people delight in making their caches from sticks, old cans, bottles, spice containers, and even trash. All caches have a logbook inside for people to record their find. 

The caches are all provided and placed by unpaid volunteers in the global geocaching community. After you have found three or more, you can then place your own caches, too. Some people are inventive, clever, accomplished artisans—and some, are diabolical. 

Geocachers refer to all people who are NOT geocachers as “Muggles” and if there are some of them nearby when nearing a cache, they will delay until the Muggles are out of sight to make their find. You might recognize this term from the Harry Potter stories as people who are unaware of the “magic” world. In this case, it’s the magic geocache world. 

How to Go Geocaching 

Download and open the app on your smartphone. Or you can simply log into www.geocaching.com and start looking for caches. There is a visual difference between using the app and the website. I prefer the website, but I encourage you to check them both, and then select your preference. Suppose you select a park in Seattle, you can click on several icons to select which one you want to find. When you click on the icon, a new screen opens, which will tell you how hard the cache is to find, how difficult the terrain is, and how large or small the cache is. Click on the “hint” arrow near the lower right corner to access another screen with more information about the location. 

Map your navigation to the cache. Once you select a cache, go outside and use the app to navigate to it. And don’t forget to bring a pen to sign the logbook inside the cache. 

Look for the cache. Once you’re in the general location, use the app to look at the recent activity and hints for clues. Remember, caches come in all shapes and sizes! 

Find and log the cache. Once you find it, you’ll need to open it and sign your username in the cache’s logbook, then place the geocache back where you found it. Log your find in the app or Geocaching.com to see your “find count” increase. 

What you will find in a geocache depends on many things, especially the size of the cache, but there will always be a log for you to sign. In larger caches, you can find trackables or items to trade. Trackables are items that are meant to move from cache to cache. Some items have traveled halfway around the world. If you take something meant to be traded, leave something of equal or greater value. 

How do people feel about their exploring activities? They leave their comments for each cache on the site for you to read. Here are some examples: 

Mercer Slough: “I was in dire need of some outside time to clear my head, so I headed here with a friend who used to work at the nearby Mercer Slough Environmental Education Center. I got a healthy dose of animal facts as we walked to the cache. We searched for a few minutes before the hint helped me find the correct location. Thanks for the cache and giving us a good reason to get outside tonight!” 

DuPont: “Such a cool cache! The log was so creative. The woods leading to it were beautiful. I had no idea this small path was there!” 

Shadow Lake: “Was the first body of water for our paddling adventures on this gorgeous day. We had the entire lake to ourselves, which made for some of the smoothest sailing each of us has ever experienced. It was a comfortable temperature out and there were caches to be found. What better conditions could you ask for? There was a turtle sitting on a log as I was heading outbound, and he dove into the water as I approached.” 

Oyster Bay: “Beautiful area. I wanted to stop and just stare at the water. Thanks for the scenery.” 

So, where’s your treasure? The real treasure lies in getting outside, having fun, discovering new aspects of your environment, and getting healthier. Medical experts agree that walking triggers a cascade of health benefits—it lowers blood pressure, contributes to greater cardiovascular fitness, promotes weight loss, strengthens muscles, improves mental health, and can help ease depression. Walking can improve both the quality and the length of your life and those are gifts you can treasure! 

John Owen transitioned from life as a graphic artist/website designer to a biomedical executive at age 61. After 20 years in the biomedical business, he now uses his knowledge of medicine and physiology to write about successful, vibrant aging. This is excerpted from his forthcoming book on super-agers. 

________________________________________________________________ 

Sidebar 

Check out these online resources for more information and to get started: 

If you need more detailed information about the nuts-and-bolts of Geocaching, the Olympic Peninsula has an excellent introduction to Geocaching online:  https://olympicpeninsula.org/geocaching-101-a-guide-to-treasure-hunting-for-beginners: 

Washington State Geocaching Association https://www.wsgaonline.org/ 

The Washington State Geocaching Association (WSGA) is a nonprofit recreational club supporting geocachers and geocaching across the state of Washington. 

Washington State Parks https://parks.wa.gov/find-activity/activity-search/geocaching 
Geocachers are welcomed at Washington State Parks, but they have a number of regulations you can find out about on their website. 

Trail Link https://www.traillink.com/ 
A nonprofit source of information about various trails in Washington and all other states. Free to join. 

The Washington Trails Association https://www.wta.org/go-outside/trail-smarts/how-to/geocaching-an-on-trail-treasure-hunt
The Washington Trails Association mobilizes hikers and everyone who loves the outdoors to explore, steward and champion trails and public lands, and includes geocaching in its family. 

Explore Washington State https://explorewashingtonstate.com/geocaching/
A site that promotes tourism in Washington. Lots of good information including the
Geocaching origin story. 

The Best Mobile Apps for Older Adults

America’s Best Idea – Our National Parks

Garage Sale Treasure Hunting

The post Finding Treasure in Your Own Backyard  appeared first on 3rd Act Magazine.

Despite being in my late 70s, I’ve been giving some thought lately to getting into local politics. Nothing too big or high-falutin like mayor or anything like that, more like running for a spot on the school board or a parks and recreation committee. I considered a city council position but decided it was above my pay grade.

Truth be told, the notion of running for any position is more than a little daunting. I am not a politician at heart and for the most part, despise them. Then there is the issue of my experience … or the lack of it. In my 77 years, I have had just one go at running for office, which was 64 years ago. Perhaps you will understand my reluctance to re-enter the political arena after you read my recap of how it all went back in 1959.

“Moss For Boss”

That catchy little slogan was what I came up with for my election campaign when I had the harebrained idea to run for President of the Student Council in 8th grade. A ludicrous notion at best. Let’s be frank, everybody knows that, historically, this position as well as the vice president and other officers are routinely held by the school’s brightest students. The brainiacs. And, in a lot of cases, the nerds. Cool guys didn’t care about student council and stuff like that. They did other things like play sports, chase girls, and thought a “C” average was perfectly alright.

When I think back now, the only reason I can come up with for running was to see if I could win. Perhaps I needed affirmation of my popularity. Or maybe it was because I was the only poor student in a household with three siblings who got nothing but As and Bs. Motivation aside, I wanted to win the election. So, run I did.

Luckily, my sister Pam, a talented artist, helped make me some nice-looking campaign materials. I put up posters everywhere and handed out flyers to anyone who would take one. I felt pretty good about my chances. I had to give a speech and became more apoplectic each day thinking about it until I had an epiphany: It dawned on me that I was a pretty good piano player—why stand up there on the stage like everyone else and deliver some boring speech? Play the piano and sing your speech!

Having committed to this novel idea I searched for just the right popular song. It was 1959, and Bobby Darin’s “Mack the Knife” was at the top of the charts. The song’s structure seemed perfect for parody lyrics. Short, little bite-size phrases I could make work. The first four bars of the tune told the whole story—who I was and what I was doing.

Here they are:

(Think “Mack the Knife” melody as your read them):

Oh my name is

Larry Moss, kids.

And I’m running

For President.

I can’t remember the other lyrics, but it doesn’t matter anyway because content was not the issue here. Style was. The element of surprise, the unexpected… that’s what it was all about. The other candidates—all way better students and more presidential than me—didn’t have a chance. My so-called speech blew the student body away. I won by a landslide. It was a resounding victory of sizzle over substance. The classic triumph of entertainment over academia. And, simply, fun over seriousness.

However, the sh_t was about to hit the fan. My first Student Council meeting was a total disaster. It was an out-of-control free-for-all. A complete fiasco. Who knew about parliamentary procedure and things like that? Certainly not me. But that was about to change in a big way.

After my first council meeting, the two teacher sponsors asked me to stay and talk with them for a moment. One of the teachers, in a nice way, told me how a meeting should be run. The other teacher suggested I resign and let the Mensa-level vice president take over.

Even though I didn’t really give a hoot about being President of the Student Council, I was not about to quit. No way. We worked out a compromise and before the council’s second meeting, I was given books on Robert’s Rules of Order and Standard Parliamentary Procedure.

They also suggested I run out and buy So, You Were Elected, a primer for clueless, newly elected young officials like me. I took the advice and books to heart and with the help of a crib sheet I used in every meeting, I made it through my term without being impeached or recalled.

Being President inadvertently landed me in the October 8, 1960 edition of the popular Saturday Evening Post. Sociologist Peter Wyden had written a book called, Suburbia’s Coddled Kids, and the Post ran an excerpt in the magazine. One blurb described his book this way, “This thoughtful, witty, disturbing study of suburbia examines the citizens of tomorrow in their present role as coddled, babied, and overindulged children.” Hmmm.

Anyway, my hometown was chosen as one of the suburbs doing plenty of coddling. The magazine conducted a photo shoot, and I was photographed walking down a beautiful tree-lined street in Highland Park with some other kids. It was pretty cool to see my picture in a national magazine.

The following year, the school election committee established a new rule prohibiting candidates from leaving the stage, singing, or playing any musical instrument. So, while my time in politics was brief, I have a political legacy. Perhaps I should leave well enough alone.

Larry Moss is a retired advertising creative director and jazz piano player. He recently published a memoir about how playing the piano played such an important role in his life.

Grandfatherly Wisdom: Advice to Emery

My Third Act—And The Music Plays On

That’s What Life is, Isn’t It?

The post Run? Or Run Away?    appeared first on 3rd Act Magazine.

Volunteering at Seattle’s Woodland Park Zoo comes with some cool safari vibes, where the rewards seem to outweigh the dirty work, says volunteer Rick Hyatt, 69. “After a three-hour work party cleaning up poop behind the penguin exhibit, we got the opportunity to feed them.”

Another effort, removing unwanted bamboo from Lemur Island, ended with the fun of feeding the big-eyed, ring-tailed animals, a unique behind-the-scenes privilege.

For Helen Muterspaugh, 78, volunteering at Bainbridge Island’s Bloedel Reserve offers a welcome refuge. “It harkens back to a quieter and gentler time before all the chaos of social media, TV, and cell phones invaded our space,” she says. “Even if people are stressed when they drive in, by the time they get here, they’re at peace. They speak in quieter tones.”

Greeting visitors in the original residence of founders Prentice and Virginia Bloedel, Muterspaugh is part of a volunteer engine that keeps the 140-acre nature preserve running.

“Volunteering here reinforces the good in the world,” she says. “It makes me happier, calmer, and more positive about the future.”

People give their time to the reserve for different reasons, says Volunteer and Tour Coordinator Kate Sunderland. “Some are here for connection and community, others to learn something new,” she says. “Beauty is a big draw for many volunteers. And people find a sense of well-being just being here.”

While volunteers clearly benefit from time spent at the reserve, so does the organization gain from their efforts. “As a nonprofit, we can’t run this place without them,” says Sunderland. “We need volunteers. This is a huge space requiring lots of attention. That’s a lot of weeding!”

Like the Bloedel Reserve, AARP Washington finds volunteers essential to its mission, says Christina Clem, associate state director of communications for the organization. “If we didn’t have our amazing volunteers, it would severely curtail what we can do across all kinds of efforts, including tax services, driver-safety programs, community events,” Clem says. “Our volunteers are often trusted members of their communities who help us spread the word and give us important feedback. None of these things would be possible without our volunteers.”

That beneficial relationship is reciprocal. “The studies don’t lie,” says Clem. “Study after study touts the benefits of volunteering. They point to an increase in brain function, a decrease in blood pressure, less depression, and more social engagement.”

Some benefits are more abstract but just as important. “People who volunteer often report a new sense of purpose that may be lost after retirement,” Clem says. “Often people revive old passions or develop new ones. They also enjoy connecting with generations other than their own.”

Teenagers provide that function for retired attorney Sandra Driscoll, 73. Registering high school kids to vote gives her a jolt of teen spirit every time. “I get pure joy from their energy, enthusiasm, and optimism,” she says. “Plus, volunteering through the years, I’ve made enduring friendships with people I would never have met otherwise.”

Penny Fuller, 81, didn’t know she’d find new friends and a new vocation when she took up pickleball a couple of years ago. Now she volunteers as an assistant coach to beginner players learning the game and helps at tournaments. “I really enjoy giving little tips I learned along the way. It’s a lot of fun.”

Finding your volunteer tribe is a journey of its own and sometimes members of that tribe may not even be human. Rick Hyatt, the zoo volunteer, has forged a bond with a siamang ape named Sam. “He’s older, 38,” Hyatt says. “I go visit him when there’s not a lot of people around and sit at the window. Often, he will come and sit by me. We just sit like that until the female gets jealous and pulls him away. He’s special.”

Hyatt’s primary duty as a roving zoo ambassador is to walk the grounds and answer visitor questions. “Anything from ‘where’s the bathroom’ to questions about the animals,” he says. “Volunteering at the zoo is perfect for me. It makes me happy. I meet people from all over the world. Most people are really nice and it just makes me feel good.”

It does society good, too. According to the most recent federal statistics, Americans volunteering through organizations contributed $122.9 billion in economic value.

Beyond dollars and cents, AARP’s Clem observes, “People who volunteer, they’re just lovely human beings.”

Connie McDougall is a former news reporter and current freelance writer of nonfiction and personal essays. A lifelong student and proud English major, she has pursued lessons in flying, scuba diving, tai chi, Spanish, meditation, hiking, and Zumba.

Organizations that depend on volunteers were hit hard by the Covid-19 lockdown. Many still struggle to get back to pre-pandemic levels. For people considering a volunteer position but may not know where to begin, AARP’s Christina Clem advises starting with what’s personally important. “What interests you? Most organizations welcome volunteers,” she says. “Almost all have a volunteer component – police departments, the arts, academic institutions, sports.” In addition, here are links to established organizations seeking volunteers:

United Way of King County https://www.uwkc.org/volunteer/

AARP Create the Good – https://createthegood.aarp.org/

Volunteer Match – https://www.volunteermatch.org/

AmeriCorps Seniors – https://www.americorps.gov/serve/americorps-seniors

Finding a Meaningful Volunteer Opportunity during Retirement Years

The Health Benefits of Volunteering During Retirement Years

The Bloedel Reserve: An Ancient Land Offers Fresh Inspiration

The post Doing Good: Finding Power and Purpose Through Volunteerism appeared first on 3rd Act Magazine.

This political season’s biggest debate has centered around presidential candidate’s ages and if they are too old for the job. President Biden withdrew from the nomination but there is much we can still learn from our early summer “freakout,” as some have called it.

President Biden’s general demeanor and lapses during the June debate attracted attention and alarm, followed by calls for him to withdraw. Donald Trump has not been spared criticism about his general health and tendency to ramble, sometimes somewhat nonsensically. If he hadn’t withdrawn from the race, the president would have been 86 by the time he completed a second term, Trump 82.

The great unknown for the future of any U.S. president is to what extent their general health will be affected by the stresses of the job. Serious illness or accidents can strike at any age. But when it comes to the likelihood of age-related declines, we do have some data. Average rates of dementia start to increase sharply from unusual to increasingly common after about age 75. Other age-related declines and risks rise with every passing year. These include walking speed, falls and injuries, heart attacks, strokes, and other common conditions like cancer and Parkinson’s Disease.

As many of us enter and march through our third act I think there is a more general issue facing all of us and our aging society—the tendency to deny aging and its accumulative effects. We pay a lot of attention to so-called active aging, the importance of staying engaged, exercising regularly, and maintaining—and ideally improving—our general health and well-being. We emphasize keeping up healthy habits such as hiking, participating in book clubs, volunteering in ways that help others, promoting things we believe in, “making a difference” and making our lives meaningful. And this is all good and important. We want to avoid or minimize age-related decline and loss of abilities for as long as we can. But we are not immortal. Eventually, we all will experience loss and decline before we die.

In my book Enlightened Aging: Building Resilience for a Long Active Life, we emphasize building reserves to stay healthy and active longer, but also the importance of accepting and adapting to changes we wish we weren’t experiencing. I was on a sabbatical in Cambridge University in my late 60s when I began writing the book to summarize what we’ve learned about aging from our research, caring for patients as they aged, and my family’s experiences. Now, 10 years later at age 77, I’m faced with the reality of the age-related changes I wrote about and the more difficult task of accepting changes I didn’t want to experience and thought I might avoid. Rather than just building reserves to combat aging changes, I try to find ways that I hope will minimize the effects of the accumulating declines I am experiencing. Like others, I hope to preserve high levels of functional well-being and happiness, engaging in the world and especially family, friends, and activities in ways that add meaning to my life for as long as I can.

We talk a lot about aging well, but what about the importance of acceptance and adapting? Time will tell how this plays out for President Biden, Trump, and the future of the country and the world. We know the implications of the U.S. presidential race and its outcome for the global stage are colossal and unknown. We also know that for individuals like me and you, it is both challenging and a wonderful opportunity to accept, adapt, and carry on with meaningful, fulfilling, and happy lives as we get older. Aging well and accepting aging itself is a victory worth celebrating.

Eric B. Larson, MD, MPH, is a Professor of Medicine at the University of Washington. He was co-Principal Investigator of the SMARRT trial and formerly Vice President for Research and Healthcare Innovation at Group Health and Kaiser-Permanente Washington. With colleagues he co-founded the long running Adult Changes in Thought (ACT) study in 1986. He continues research through the UW Alzheimer’s Disease Research Center and other projects. He has participated in The Lancet Commission on Dementia since its inception. With co-author Joan DeClaire he wrote the well-received book, Enlightened Aging: Building Resilience for a Long Active Life.

Resilience: The Simple Truth About Living to 100

Be a Part of It

A Pearl Harbor Secret

The post What the Conversation Around Aging Presidential Candidates Can Teach Us About Our Aging Selves appeared first on 3rd Act Magazine.

BY FLORENCE KLEIN

As I reflect on the strides toward gender equality, it’s essential to acknowledge the trailblazers who paved the way for today’s progress. My journey as one of Philadelphia’s first female stockbrokers and America’s first woman real estate developer—converting old factories into historic condos—stands as a testament to the transformative power of women’s voices and the ongoing fight for equality.

Growing up during the tumultuous years of World War II, I decided early on to take charge of my destiny. I challenged the status quo in male-dominated fields, while raising a family and pursued my dreams no matter how unconventional they seemed.

Some of my foundational principles come from books. As a child, I would sneak into the adult section of the Logan Library to find more exciting reads. There, I discovered The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand. At 10 or 11 years old, I had no idea how radical and controversial the ideas were. The author’s goal was to present the ideal man and she emphasized the importance of being an individual, which was revolutionary at that time. And even though the hero was a man, I never once questioned that the principles she espoused would apply equally to women. A quote from her book, “The question isn’t who is going to let me, it’s who is going to stop me,” became my lifelong mantra.

Another woman who deeply influenced me is Maggie Kuhn. She fueled my passion for intergenerational housing. Kuhn was a passionate activist and feminist who founded the Gray Panthers movement in 1970 to combat social injustice, racial and gender inequity, and elder discrimination. Later she started the National Shared Housing Resource Center to encourage intergenerational housing.

Like Kuhn, I am an activist at heart. I usually do not wait to be called when I see a need. I move forward to see if I can make a difference. I started one of the first websites to assist seniors in need and continued to break barriers well into my 80s, such as writing and publishing my first book.

As we age, the most important thing is to keep going. Age is just a number—it does not define anyone. That’s why I keep moving—to renew my energy, passion, and desire to be who I now know I am. And there is still more to me.

Women’s voices, once marginalized, are now at the forefront of advocacy and change. The fight for equality has seen some victories—from greater representation in corporate boardrooms to leadership roles—and some recent setbacks. The journey is ongoing.

Our stories underscore the importance of perseverance and the collective power of women’s voices in shaping a more equitable future. We each have the power to create change. As we look ahead to 2025 and beyond, let’s carry forward the lessons and continue the fight for a world where equality is not just an aspiration but a reality.

Florence Klein was born in 1934 in Philadelphia, Penn. and graduated from the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania. She published her first book, Under the Hat—Memoir of an Unstoppable Woman Trailblazer in 2023, at age 89. 

What We Hold Dear

Weathering Seasons of Change

The Importance of Legacy Planning

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When Mountlake Terrace Mayor Kyoko Matsumoto-Wright and I were children, the voters of our region rejected light rail. Twice. Federal funds earmarked for mass transit, as we called it then, were redirected to Atlanta. For the rest of our lives, the impact of those votes cast in the car-loving 1960s and 1970s has weighed ever more heavily on Seattle and its burgeoning suburbs.

Matsumoto-Wright, who is 74, was born in Japan. Her father, who served 20 years in the Army, was born in Hawaii. The family went back and forth between Japan and Hawaii until Matsumoto-Wright was 12, when they moved to Bothell, Wash. She is a graduate of Inglemoor High School and the University of Washington School of Drama. Her theatrical training has served her well during her long dual career in real estate and local government. She dyes her hair purple. She is not shy about speaking up, especially on the issues that matter most to her and her constituents—transportation and growth. When Link light rail was in its infancy, she made the case for a Mountlake Terrace station and for the building of apartments, townhomes, stores, and restaurants near where the future station would be.

For 41 years, Matsumoto-Wright has been a real estate broker for Coldwell Banker Bain. “I have history here,” she deadpanned. “I got to sell people their house, then I sold them another house, then I sold their kids a house, and then I sold their grandkids a house. All because I didn’t move around. I stayed right here and they all know where to find me.”

In 2000, she was elected president of the Snohomish County-Camano Association of Realtors. She went on to serve on the state’s Real Estate Commission where, she says, it was once customary for people to “show up, vote, and leave.” She chose to stick around and ask questions.

Mountlake Terrace asked her to serve on its planning commission. After a brutal series of arsons decimated the suburb’s tiny business district, a new town center plan was finally underway. It took five years of cutting through red tape and keeping the peace at meeting after meeting. “I wasn’t doing it for my resume. I was already at the age where I’m going, ‘what resume?’ but I really, really cared.”

People noticed how much Matsumoto-Wright cared. She was appointed to the City Council in 2008, and elected in 2009. When former mayor Jerry Smith died in 2018, she moved up.

Being mayor of Mountlake Terrace means being part of a whole network of city governments in north King and south Snohomish counties. It means attending many, many meetings. And it doesn’t pay much: $1,100 a month. (Matsumoto-Wright has also served on the Snohomish County Housing Authority.)

So why do it? Why should any of us get involved in local government?

Much as Matsumoto-Wright loves solving transportation and planning problems, that is not the #1 reason why she finds meaning in being the mayor. What really drives her, she says, is forming friendships with young people. And thinking about their future.

“We need to start listening to people in their 20s because they’re our future. And we are in the (transportation) pickle we’re in right now because the people before us decided not to do anything. They decided to vote against rail in 1968 and 1976. And the reasons why they did that are because it would not happen in their lifetime and it was too expensive. So now it is too expensive, and it’s not going to happen in (many) of our lifetimes, but we need to do it for the future. And for people in their 20s today. Because we need this.”

Meanwhile, Matsumoto-Wright tells her colleagues in government, “You’re not going to take away cars from the Boomers, so don’t even try. But we’re not going to be around forever.”

Matsumoto-Wright finds that speaking frankly about mortality is a good way to get people’s attention. “Many of my friends don’t even want to talk about the fact that they’re going to die. And many of my friends have already died. And I miss them. Terribly. But again, you’ve got to make new friends. Younger friends.”

Of the seven people on the Mountlake Terrace City Council, two, including the mayor herself, are baby boomers, three are Gen-xers, and two are millennials. “Many local elected officials at the city council level are older because the younger people don’t have the time. They have careers and kids to raise. So we’re lucky we have two millennials on our city council.”

It’s healthy and meaningful, she contends, for council members of all ages to focus on the future that lies beyond their own life spans. But it is also meaningful to learn from the past. “One thing about being on the planning commission and the council and all the other commissions is that I’m learning about history, and I’m learning about how life was lived before. Before cars and so forth, you didn’t have people living in suburbs, and they only had trains. Greenlake was all summer cabins. Alderwood Manor used to be egg farms. They got rid of the streetcar lines just before they decided we were going to need it back for rail.”

One of her pet peeves—how many people in local government never actually ride a bus or a train. “People don’t realize, if you drive a car, you have a choice. You don’t realize how many people have to take public transportation because they don’t have a choice. They don’t have a car.”

As a real estate agent, Matsumoto-Wright spends plenty of time behind the wheel. But she also values her senior Orca card ($1 a ride) and the freedom it gives her. And she is genuinely excited about the opening, at long last, of the Mountlake Terrace Link Light Rail Station, which opened on August 30, 2024, along with two other stations in Shoreline and the northernmost station in Lynnwr and that’s issuing proclamations. One of her most recent ones was honoring Grammy-winning composer and fiddler Mark O’Connor, who grew up in Mountlake Terrace. Her next one, she hopes, will go to Lily Gladstone, just as soon as the actor’s busy schedule permits it. Gladstone, a 2004 graduate of Mountlake Terrace High School, starred in Martin Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon, for which she was the first Native American to win the Golden Globe for best actress and to be nominated for an Academy Award for best actress. Her parents still live in Mountlake Terrace, so Matsumoto-Wright is hopeful that Gladstone will be able to receive the proclamation in person.

It will be a poignant moment for Matsumoto-Wright, who was one ofood.

Just in time, you might say. The current population of Mountlake Terrace is 24,260. In 20 years, it is expected to climb to nearly 36,000.

There’s one more thing Matsumoto-Wright loves about being mayo the first Asian Americans to attend the UW School of Drama. And poignant, too, for her many younger friends in local government, to see one of their hometown peers stepping into a bright future.

Ann Hedreen is an author (Her Beautiful Brain), teacher of memoir writing, and filmmaker. Hedreen` and her husband, Rustin Thompson, own White Noise Productions and have made more than 150 short films and several feature documentaries together, including Quick Brown Fox: An Alzheimer’s Story. She is currently at work on a book of essays and is a regular contributor to 3rd Act Magazine, writing about topics including conscious aging, retirement, mindfulness, and health.

A City for Everyone

How to Build a Better Old Age

The post Kyoko Matsumoto on Why We Should All Get Involved in Local Politics appeared first on 3rd Act Magazine.

BY FRED NYSTROM

Most of us reading this magazine have likely passed the conventional age of retirement and are feeling positive about our future years. There’s a lot to feel positive about. Some of our current commonalities may include:

• We’re retired or have switched to less-demanding work.

• We are healthy, active, and socially engaged.

• We are married or in a stable relationship, and the kids are (hopefully) out of the house.

• Ninety percent of us want to age in place in our own home for as long as possible.

The flipside is that things can change rapidly during this life stage. We may suddenly find ourselves single or in a caregiving role. Or we may become injured, or chronically or terminally ill. Because of this we need to be aware of our options so we can be prepared. That’s why understanding care options is crucial as we age.

A physician speaking from his wheelchair at a recent Rotary meeting I attended kept referring to the audience as “TABs.” When asked what he meant he explained that “TAB” stands for Temporarily Able Bodied, and that none of us know when we or a loved one will have an EVENT. An event is something that will profoundly change us from who we are today, to who we will be after such an event.

The event could be a bad fall, significant surgery, car accident, heart attack, cancer diagnosis, or the onset of dementia. Don’t think it will happen to you? Statistics show that two-thirds of us will become physically or cognitively impaired before death.

That’s why it is imperative each of us know the structure of the care industry and how to receive the services we may need following our own event.

It may come as a surprise to learn that hospitals focus on performing operations and only serving those with acute care needs. As soon as medically feasible, patients who require prolonged recovery time or convalescence are transferred to a skilled nursing facility. This is where people recover while receiving 24-hour monitoring and skilled care from nurses and doctors. If physical or occupational therapy is needed to aid recovery it can be provided as well.

The average cost for a stay in a skilled nursing facility in the Seattle Metro area is $13,000 to $16,000 a month. Fortunately, most of the costs are covered by insurance.

As patients get close to being discharged from a skilled nursing facility, doctors and others on the care team confer to make a very impactful decision: Can this patient be released to return to their own home? And if they are released to their home, does their condition require some level of in-home care? Or is returning home no longer an option? In that case the patient or family must find long-term assisted living or memory care designed to handle their ongoing physical, emotional, and/or cognitive needs.

This discharge “gateway” is designed to make sure patients receive the level of care the medical staff believes is critical to their safety and well-being after leaving the skilled nursing facility. Unfortunately, in-home and long-term care are generally not covered by Medicare insurance. Without advance planning, not only will this change be physically and emotionally difficult, but it could also be financially devastating.

Therefore, it’s imperative to consider your preferences and options before a lifechanging event happens. In our new column, “Planning for Change,” we will step you through the options currently available—expanding your knowledge and understanding of choices with each issue. But don’t wait for us, start investigating these options for yourself today so you are ready if an unexpected event happens to you.

Fred Nystrom’s media and publishing experience include starting a tabloid on outdoor recreation and growing it to a national circulation, a decade with Sunset magazine, publishing the Special Places travel guides, plus local magazines and contributing editor for a local newspaper. He is now focused on the issues and challenges of aging.

Keys to Successfully Navigating Your Future

The post Planning for Change—When Life Happens appeared first on 3rd Act Magazine.