Here's something I just have to share with you...

Last summer my mother was visiting with her granddaughter and greatgrandchildren.

Matthew, the youngest at 4 1/2, was quite taken with "Nana" and spent long moments just gazing at her. One afternoon, he could hold his curiosity in no longer. He looked at her sweetly and, taking her face in his hands, and patting her jowls said so innocently, "Nana, I think you're so beautiful... but why are your cheeks down there?"

Peggy

Difficulties with age-related memory loss are likely to be quite manageable for educated elderly with reasonably good physical health, consistent medical care, high levels of activity and accessible support systems.

Noriko Kojima, 64, is a ‘Suzie Homemaker,’ who lives in Japan. She has enjoyed sewing all her life, and as a skilled sewer, she has made clothes for her family and friends for the past 40 years. A few years ago, she received the sad news that her mother had passed away. After the funeral, she visited her family home and discovered in her mother’s closets a huge stack of old silk kimonos (Japanese old-style dresses) and cotton jimbe (Japanese old-style pajamas) worn by her parents when they were young. Her brothers suggested they throw the old clothes away because these traditional Japanese-style clothes are no longer popular in modern Japan. But for her, they were just too precious to throw away. She then thought, “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to keep the loving memory of my parents by turning these old clothes into modern styles that I can wear?”

As her steady hand finishes off the hem of her mother’s old silk dress that she has been working on for the past few weeks, she explains, “Japanese traditional style clothes have no buttons. People used to fasten them with ties, which is not practical today. So, I added buttons to all these clothes.” In addition to adding the buttons, she also cut the length of the sleeves and the hem of these old clothes because they are just too long to be practical. She then, smiles and says “You can turn the old clothes into new ones, too, as long as you have mastered the basic techniques of sewing.”

A homemaker who is skilled in sewing like Noriko is a lost breed in modern Japan. But, recently, there has been a renewed interest in homemaking and an increasing demand for a homemaker like Noriko to teach sewing to the younger generation of Japanese women. Noriko has a sewing class and teaches students who are in their teens to women who are in their sixties. She particularly enjoys teaching students how to turn the family’s old clothes into modern style apparel. “When I wear the old family’s clothes like this, I feel like I am keeping the loving memory of our family alive. Sewing used to be just my hobby. But now, it is my passion.“

They became fast friends and he has escorted her for other marathons until her last at age 90. "Mavis changed the way I viewed aging," Patrick said, "The medical model tends to focus on what goes wrong in aging--and neglects to inform us about what goes right. She inspired me to begin working on a Ph.D. in aging and human development."

Here is their story:

Night’s chill lingered in the air and the silence was broken by the sounds of songbirds. The sun was just beginning to rise on a crisp October morning in 1992. Suddenly the squeaking brakes of a rental truck and the clanging of folding chairs shattered the serenity. With military precision, the volunteers began to set up the first aid station at the 18-mile marker. I was one of those volunteers and this was the annual running of the Portland Marathon. It took an hour to set up and go through my checklist. The first aid kit was in order and the communications were working. We were ready. Soon the elite runners would be flying through, followed by a seemingly endless sea of participants. The conditions were perfect: a bright clear indigo sky, golden fall leaves.

All of us were anticipating an inspiring day. The morning had been uneventful at our station. The usual blisters, Vaseline applied to chaffed skin, hydration to the dehydrated, and lots of moral support. One pregnant woman reached the 18-mile point and could go no further so we loaded her in the ambulance. They taxied her to the finish line and her anxiously awaiting husband. It was now late afternoon and the sea of runners had dwindled to a trickle of determined souls.

The frequent and now familiar static that preceded a message from the EMS broke the airwaves. An elderly woman was reported down near the 18-mile mark, in our territory. I waited for a person fitting the description to pass, and no one did. Strapping on my first aid kit, I set out to investigate. Running upstream, I began to think, how elderly could they mean? Who ever it was, he or she had gone 18 miles, and this was a marathon after all…….50, maybe 60, I thought.

As I rounded the bend I saw a young woman attending the injured runner who looked like Mother Theresa in running shorts! The young woman explained that another runner had cut in front of the injured woman and knocked her down as she stepped towards the curb. As I listened, I assessed the situation. The injuries included an obviously fractured wrist as well as a small bump on the head. "Her name is Mavis," the young woman said. "Mavis, I would like to escort you to the first aid station," I began… "Young man, I’m going to finish this race," she politely interrupted.

After a few seconds of negotiating, I held up her injured arm and we briskly took off for the station (or so I thought). Amazed, I blurted out "How old are you?" "I’m 85." She pointed to her number pinned to the front of her T-shirt. "Every year, they give me the number of my age. This year I’m number 85. " What do you mean each year?" I asked.

Mavis Lindgren had run all over the world. She had appeared many times on TV, radio, and magazines such as Runner’s World, Sports Illustrated, and The New York Times, and been mentioned in books such as Age Wave (Ken Dychtwald) and Grandma Wears Running Shoes (Patricia Horning Benton). She was no stranger to Portland, either. All along the course there were signs encouraging her and the cheers followed her every step! Two middle-aged women ran up and hugged her exclaiming that they wanted to be just like her when they grew up.

Mavis and I reached the finish line arm-in-arm, right into interviews for the 6’oclock news (I have the video). I was asked to escort her for the entire race the next year in 1993, and it became a tradition. She retired from running at age 90 after the 1997 marathon. It was her 75th and final 26.2-mile outing. Phil Knight of Nike, had a custom pair of "Air Mavis" running shoes made especially for her final marathon. Her two daughters and grandchildren accompanied us and it was an emotional finale to an illustrious running career.

What makes her story all the more exceptional to me is that at age 62, Mavis was leading a sedentary life, spending most of time reading, writing and knitting. She had suffered four bouts of pneumonia in five years and, as a retired nurse, she knew the antibiotics weren’t the long-term solution. Something had to change. A doctor urged her to join an early bird walking group.

At age 70, encouraged by her son, she ran her first marathon! Two years later, she established a record of 4:33.05, and for the next eight years, held world’s best time for women 70 and over. And at 84 she finished the Los Angeles marathon in 6 hours 45 minutes-the fastest woman in her age category. "After I started running, I never had another cold," she said.

Asked what his message was, Ghandi replied: "My life is my message." This could well be said about Mavis Lindgren.

Reprinted with permission from Patrick J. Roden, BSN MS GRNC

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My Cheerleader, My Mom...

In 1992-1997 I was a caregiver of my mother who was in her 70's. She had once been a vibrant, intelligent woman who traveled alone in her car and drove wherever she wanted to visit. She was an active church member and volunteered where she was needed.

In 1990 she suffered a major stroke that ended all her autonomy. She was in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. She also had diabetes type II and later, near the end, developed gangrene in one toe, then another, and then another. She was diagnosed with inoperable carotid artery aneurysms -- her age and poor survival risk made surgery impossible. With the multiple urinary tract infections, multiple antibiotic therapies and therapy for her gangrenous foot, her chronic renal failure became acute.

She was then placed in a nursing home for one month. For a month renal dialysis was unsuccessful, and I had to make the decision to say good-bye to my beloved mother.

I've told you briefly about my mother's history, and now I'd like to tell you who my mother was. The last 2 years of her life she was my cheerleader… During one of our many talks it was decided I would go back to college and become a nurse. I was 51 years old, returning to college after a 30 year span away from my youth in college. Although I had not completed college the first go round, I was determined to the second time around!

My last child had left home the summer of 1994, so Mom and I decided I should go for it. My husband and children were not privy to my decision until a week before I started classes. So in August of 1994, I began my new career. It was difficult, but I did it. I graduated in December, 1998 just before I turned 56 on Christmas Day. My mother, who had been my greatest cheerleader, had so wanted to share my graduation, but 1 1/2 years before graduation, she died.

This past summer my husband and I decided it was time for me to go for my BSN. I am now back in college and will graduate just before I am 60 years old -- then I plan to continue on for my Master's and Nurse Practitioner degrees. This should occur when I am almost 63 years old. In the meantime, I work full time and have nine grandchildren, six of whom I take care of often.

I am a young thinking, looking, acting middle aged woman who has come to the conclusion that you can do anything you want no matter how old you are. I hope I am setting an example and leaving a legacy for my family, my friends, and for my grandchildren, as my mother did for me...

Printed with permission from Carole Holmes, RN

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If you have a great story you would like to share with us, please e-mail it to us at
smithmo@medicine.ufl.edu

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Untitled (Anonymous)

When I was in my younger days, I weighed a few pounds less.
I needn't hold my tummy in to wear a belted dress.

But now that I am older, I've set my body free;
There's comfort of elastic where once my waist would be.

And how about those pantyhose -- they're sized by weight, you see.
So how come when I put them on, the crotch is at my knees?

I need to wear these glasses, as the prints were getting smaller;
and it wasn't very long ago, I know that I was taller!

Though my hair has turned to gray, and my skin no longer fits,
On the inside, I'm the same old me, just the outside's changed a bit.

A Crabbit Old Woman?

This poem was found in the locker of a patient who died in a long-term care hospital ward in England. The patient was thought to have a dementing illness...