The idea of bringing “my old ladies” together emerged from a conversation with Judy, a plucky, recently-retired 92-year-old. My daughter’s (very good) friend’s mother-in-law, Judy has become a same-time-next-Rosh-Hashona acquaintance. This fall, she talked about adjusting to her new life stage, figuring out ways to use her time and mind now that she doesn’t go to work as an educator every day.
“You’re probably almost never with someone your own age,” said I, Queen of the Obvious.
And then, always the social chairman, I blurted out,, “Hey, let me ask you: If I set it up, would you like to meet other terrific women in their nineties? Actually, one is 100 1/2.” (At this age half-years count.)
Judy said yes immediately.
I put the idea on a back burner for a few weeks and then I saw Tea With the Dames, a gathering of great English actresses in their eighties — Judi Dench, Eileen Atwood, Joan Ploughwright, Maggie Smith. What humor and wisdom — what perspective I could have listened to another two hours!
The four Dames were fortunate to have a shared past and could regularly reconnect. Could I get my four, who never knew each other and had little in common, agree to lunch?
I was least sure about Marge, the sole centenarian. She had a health scare three weeks ago and only returned home earlier this week. But I had nothing to lose by asking. My motto: “You don’t ask; you don’t get.”
“What’s up?” she said as I walked into her den. She was in her usual spot on the couch, looking regal in a plush red robe, strong and surprisingly healthy and upbeat given her ordeal. I handed her my test-the-water letter. She held it up to the light and close to her face.
Dear Marge,
As I approach my own 75th Birthday, this December, I realize I’m lucky enough to know FOUR women who are around 20 years older than I am. As you may recall, I’ve come to think of you all as “my old ladies.”
I’ve been consciously cultivating relationships with “good” older women since I was 50 and met Henrietta (which was my mother’s name) in a writing class at the New School. She was 75 and legally blind. We talked about writing and she marveled at how common psychotherapy was among the men and women of my generation!
Now to the reason for this letter. I would like to invite the four of you to lunch! You’re all very different but the one thing you have in common (besides being New Yorkers) is that you’re not often with women your own age – “good” older women who embrace life the way you do. You’re all interesting and smart. What could be bad?
To my surprise, when she looked up from the paper Marge smiled. “What a good idea!” was quickly followed with, “as long as the weather is good.”
Judy and Lucille also said yes, but Sylvia, a social butterfly at almost 96, didn’t have any openings. I’ll see her in Florida.
Lunch with three of my old ladies is going to happen. Will keep you posted.