After Ninety
What the future still holds
In 1977, the photographer Imogen Cunningham published a book of photographs featuring people aged ninety or more, when she herself was that age. I discovered this book more than 30 years ago when I was researching my architecture thesis, “At Home With Growing Old.” My thesis project focused on mixing housing options, envisioning living spaces for older adults that serve as civic hubs, which include public libraries, movie theaters, sports arenas, and more.
I was fascinated by these portraits of people whose lives were imprinted on their faces and bodies. Some of my friends are over ninety now. A decade which, with few exceptions, likely will be the final chapter of life. But I’m learning that despite the limited time left, ninety doesn’t necessarily keep nonagenarians from thinking about the future. They may be older, but they hold the same hopes, concerns, passions and often fears as when they were younger.
A friend of mine, who’s in her early nineties and whose husband of 70 years just died, told me that she’s not going to look for a new relationship. Another friend, who recently celebrated her ninetieth birthday, just finished her autobiography, which will be published next year. At one of our forums (Growing Up And Growing Older), a 93-year-old participant shared that she recently told the receptionist at her doctor’s office that she was 106 and relished how funny it was that the gal believed her!
A few years ago, a great Bay Area Jazz vocalist performed at one of our learning events, shortly after his ninetieth birthday. Before he began singing, he made everyone laugh. “I turned ninety this past February, and it freaked me out. I was fine until February 2nd, and then everything fell apart. I thought it was all over.“ Then he offered the most beautiful renditions of some of the best jazz tunes, like Here’s to Life*.
Part of the gift of growing older is passing the torch to your children, or the next generation—an ongoing process, which continues until you die. One of my ninety-year-old friends compared it to a relay race: it’s a pleasure to pass it onto the next person but also distinctly disturbing because you’re losing control—your children are making decisions for you.
A common mistake we make when we think about age-friendly housing, services, and programs is that we don’t consider the full spectrum of who we are in older age. Instead, we mostly offer solutions focused on disaster preparedness (i.e. fall prevention) and damage control (like emergency buttons); while important, they make up a relatively small part of everyday life, something most of us would rather not think about at any age. Unfortunately, most of these design solutions/gadgets are marketed to the children of older adults or senior housing administrators, instead of the people who actually use them. No wonder the acceptance rate is low.
I don’t have all the answers but here are a few thoughts on what’s needed to help us live to our fullest potential as we grow older.
Imagination: In her essay on how to survive in a disaster, author Rebecca Solnit writes, “Love and empathy are acts of imagination, imagination is an act of courage, of risk…” Designers and manufacturers of assistive devices rarely take business risks or show courage when designing, say, a walker. Care facilities, even rental housing, places strict rules around how residents can modify their spaces. (All the time, I see residents come up with imaginative solutions in adapting their homes; unique and not replicable, they often inspire others to be creative with their own spaces, as well.)
Connection: None of us can navigate the complexity of life on our own. This becomes even more true in older age, when life is more uncertain. Just being aware of the importance of human connections should spur us into action—taking a walk with a neighbor, holding the door for somebody at the grocery store, offering a hand.
Agency: Passing the torch shouldn’t mean losing total control. While it may be uncomfortable, discussing the likelihood of disasters or accidents and how to manage them is well worth the effort (see Roz Chast: Can’t we talk about something more pleasant?). For instance, practicing disaster preparedness in small, creative ways in one’s home helps to maintain agency and positively shape one’s aging experience. This could be as simple as reorganizing one’s kitchen for easier use.
Beyond disaster preparedness, At Home With Growing Older’s Aging 360 workshops inspire participants to find value in older age, after ninety, and beyond.