When you turn 80… ~ Malinda Words

Eighty, as in ’80 years old’? Yes. The response to any suggestion of turning 80 varies depending on the age of the respondent. Someone who is 75, it’s not too far away. Someone who is sixty might think, ‘there’s time to ponder that one,’ or ‘I won’t get there, so there’s no point thinking about it.’

Since there are very few people who are that age or close to it, the vast majority of a decent sample of the population that’s representative of all ages would lean towards dismissing the question ‘what would you be doing when you turn 80?’ Silly, not relevant, for later. Dismissive. Understandable.

There’s a way of obtaining at least a half-way decent interest in this. Pick an age. Let’s say 57. Ask the person if, at the age of 27, he or she ever thought of being 57 years of age. Or thereabouts. How about when he or she was 20 or 13? At that age, did you ever think you would turn 35, forget 80? Probably not. Even if you did, it would have been a thought that just came randomly or, if it didn’t, was quickly replaced with something more in tune with ‘the here and now.’

Where we have come from and where we might end are often pushed to the periphery by where we happen to be right now. We are in some ‘here’ and at a ‘now’. Places we’ve been to, places we may go to, time that has passed and time yet to come are not entirely irrelevant, but then again, a moment a long way into the future just doesn’t seem to warrant too much thought.

Unless you know someone that age. Unless that age is present in the form of concern and love for the person. And you wonder, ‘what will I be like when I reach that age?’

Life is tough as it is, so why spend time and devote thought to things that don’t fascinate, one can ask. True. There are always things that require immediate attention. Simple things like having to catch a bus, wondering how to pay utility bills, being anxious about children etc.

We could bury the past, telling ourselves that it’s all done and we can’t do anything about it. The past won’t remain buried, though. For convenience, let’s ignore all that. The future? It is present even if only in a ‘near’ and not ‘at 80’ sense. And we move from a now of doing what needs to be done and thinking about what needs to be done next to doing that ‘next thing’ and wondering about the next to next thing. And we find ourselves at 80. Well, at 65 or 40 or 23, depending on our age.

I remember an ’80 moment’ when I was about 45. It was at a future-place, a home for the elderly in Panadura, Gorakapola David Jayasundara Vedihiti Nivasaya. An alms-giving in memory of my mother who had recently passed away. One of her students who was present said, ‘this is my future.’ There was anxiety in his voice and in his eyes. He had extrapolated.

We, typically, do not.

A few days ago, my friend Chandi Jayawardena, gifted me some books written by his father, Ranathunga Don Karunadasa Jayawardena, a novel, the script of a play and a collection of poetry. ‘These he wrote after he turned 80,’ Chandi said.

It’s not that Chandi’s father started writing when he turned 80, but I thought to myself, ’80 is as good an age as any to write a novel.’ Or a poem. Take up painting. Learn nail-art. Sculpt. And then, almost immediately, it occurred to me that any of these exercises and any other of the innumerable pursuits available can be embraced at any given moment.

Not because you will turn 80 one day and find nothing to do or realise that you’ve really not done much or lived much, but because there’s time that passes and passes us by while we do nothing.

Well, we do something. Even sleep is a ‘thing’. Reflection is a thing too. And yet there’s time we blow away and, when we’ve done quite a bit of blowing away and reach a certain age, wonder ‘where did the years go?’

Write a book when you turn 80. That’s something we can tell anyone who hasn’t turned 80. That’s something we can all tell ourselves if we happened to be 79 years of age, 57, 32 or any age in fact.

Options. Write a book. A poem. Watch a movie or make one. Plant a tree. Feed a stray dog. Share your food. Say sorry. Stand up when tyranny insists, ‘sit down!’ Speak when silence is sought to be obtained through coercion. Say ‘I love you,’ regardless of the consequences simply because it is the only way to be honest to yourself.

We don’t have to wait until we are 80.

['The Morning Inspection' is the title of a column I wrote for the Daily News from 2009 to 2011, one article a day, Monday through Saturday. This is a new series. Links to previous articles in this new series are given below]

10 April 2023

When you turn 80…

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