When Ruth and I were mere girls of 60 or so, wrapping up the coffee date that sealed our friendship, she made a declaration about the next phase of her life. Call her old, call her lined. Don’t ever—ever—call her spry. What a joyous hour we’d shared. Books and politics, children and husbands, the flamboyant younger sisters who baffled and bewitched us both. Of all our touchpoints, Ruth saved the best for last. The s-word.
Rona -- It's one thing to call yourself spry and another thing entirely to have someone (who inevitably smirks with condescension) call you that. I won't back down!
And, as long as you have me ranting, please add to my list of don't-call-me's, "sweet." That's now become a synonym for docile and toothless, almost always applied to older women or abandoned animals looking to be rescued. No, no, no!
"Oh to be spry forever." What a great closer! (I somehow mistakenly un-subscribed to you and only just now noticed. No idea how that happened. I'm back now.)
Superb piece of writing! Thank you. At 72? So far, so good fingers crossed. And my neighbour, Margo, at 89 catches the bus and swirls around town shopping and lunching with glorious energy!
You have the perfect handle on an energetic life. I suspect that everyone of any age feels pain somewhere on their body at some time, but we can all hide pain, can't we, amongst a multitude of props - clothes, makeup, expression, activity? In amongst all of that there's a load of secrets.
Maybe mostly we're trying to fool ourselves and if that's what it takes to be lithe and nimble, so be it!
Love this! Love the word spry... I’m going to start using it around the senior center where I play pickleball with all ages. I’m going to say to the 60-70 year olds... be spry like me! I’m going to say Alexa... play spry music! 😁The dictionary needs an update... nothing elderly about us! 😊🫶
Thank you for these wise thoughts, Rona. A high-school friend just visited, a cellist, telling me with sweet regret that she can't play the fast pieces any more, her fingers and eyes just won't do it. So, we decided, just play the slower pieces. Dance whenever and wherever possible. Our bodies are not what they were, but our spirits are so very much better, wiser, grounded. (And to think, I almost had a steamy encounter with the Kinks during their Canadian tour in 1967!)
Beautiful Rona. I hope to have the will to not just live but to live abundantly like you when I’m there ❤️
Another wonderful piece, Rona! This one had me cackling out loud. Oh, my God, those Google examples of spry in a sentence spot on.
Rona -- It's one thing to call yourself spry and another thing entirely to have someone (who inevitably smirks with condescension) call you that. I won't back down!
And, as long as you have me ranting, please add to my list of don't-call-me's, "sweet." That's now become a synonym for docile and toothless, almost always applied to older women or abandoned animals looking to be rescued. No, no, no!
xxRuth
"Oh to be spry forever." What a great closer! (I somehow mistakenly un-subscribed to you and only just now noticed. No idea how that happened. I'm back now.)
A wonderful rendition of your view of 'spry'. I get it!
Just lovely.
love this - just love this
Superb piece of writing! Thank you. At 72? So far, so good fingers crossed. And my neighbour, Margo, at 89 catches the bus and swirls around town shopping and lunching with glorious energy!
Such an 'agile' post!
Spry? Good God! Fit, I'd say.
You have the perfect handle on an energetic life. I suspect that everyone of any age feels pain somewhere on their body at some time, but we can all hide pain, can't we, amongst a multitude of props - clothes, makeup, expression, activity? In amongst all of that there's a load of secrets.
Maybe mostly we're trying to fool ourselves and if that's what it takes to be lithe and nimble, so be it!
Thank you for the perfect read for a 72 year old.
Your writing is anything but spry - energetic, elegant and excellent!
Love this! Love the word spry... I’m going to start using it around the senior center where I play pickleball with all ages. I’m going to say to the 60-70 year olds... be spry like me! I’m going to say Alexa... play spry music! 😁The dictionary needs an update... nothing elderly about us! 😊🫶
The perfect accompaniment to my cup of coffee. Thanks.
Thank you for these wise thoughts, Rona. A high-school friend just visited, a cellist, telling me with sweet regret that she can't play the fast pieces any more, her fingers and eyes just won't do it. So, we decided, just play the slower pieces. Dance whenever and wherever possible. Our bodies are not what they were, but our spirits are so very much better, wiser, grounded. (And to think, I almost had a steamy encounter with the Kinks during their Canadian tour in 1967!)
“Furiously pedaled to nowhere” — wow, I love that line.
Love this, as always. I can’t wear even pretty flats anymore, but when My Generation comes on I am up and dancing without pain.
Work hard to stay spry so one doesn't become decrepit is one way to look at it! I love how the words flow as we age.